


Dancing with the Archangels

by tucuxia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 11, Angel Wings, Archangels, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-03 07:30:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14564067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tucuxia/pseuds/tucuxia
Summary: Michael breaks free of the Cage and goes after the three men who put him in there. Season 11 divergent





	1. Michael

Golden eyes watched him from the shadows, seemingly floating free of any body but glowing with an inner light. Sam glanced up from his book and sighed, closing it with a satisfying _thump_ before placing it carefully on the table and pushing himself to his feet. He always felt more confident when he was towering over people, and this was one person he truly dwarfed. “Look, you might as well show yourself. I know you’re there.”

“I intended that you should.” The disembodied voice floated around the tall hunter, whispering along his skin before vanishing along with the eyes. They were replaced by the youngest of the four archangels, his blonde form smaller than his brothers’ chosen vessels and most of the other gods that Sam had ever met.

He suddenly wanted to know why.

“Gabriel, how big is your true form?”

The smaller man had clearly not anticipated that question, perching on the edge of the nearest chair as he considered the best way to answer. “Generally speaking, the more powerful an angel is and the higher his rank in the Host, the larger his size. When Castiel was just a captain of a garrison, he was larger than your Chrysler building. As a seraph he is approximately three times that size and he has six wings instead of two. He’s actually the largest seraph I have ever seen. Archangels are five times the size of the largest seraphs, and we also have six wings, though in our vessels we usually only manifest two.”

“Were you all the same size? You, Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael?”

Gabriel shrugged, having not seen any of his brothers’ true forms in thousands of years. “We were all pretty similar. Michael was the tallest, but Lucifer was the brightest. Raphael was reasonably similar to Lucifer in size but he liked to flaunt his power more so he was the most likely to expand his grace to fill the halls of Heaven. Me, I enjoyed spending time with my younger siblings, so I spent a great deal of time learning how to control my grace and contain it when I interacted with other celestial beings. I’m not really any smaller than Lucifer, but my wings are much larger. And they’re golden where Michael’s are white, Raphael’s were brown, and Luci’s are red.”

“If you’re the same size as your brothers, why did you choose a much smaller vessel?”

Gabriel’s golden eyes widened in shock, the archangel grinning as a smirk lit Sam’s face. “You’re teasing me, Samsquatch.”

“Guilty.”

“I’ll have you know that this vessel was quite tall when it was originally created! It’s also the oldest archangel vessel, whereas you, Dean, and that poor insane man that Raphael used to wear have had thousands of years of evolution to grow bigger. Unlike some of the Norse Gods you met before, I never bothered to change my form as the humans we watched over grew. This vessel has always suited me fine.” He slipped off of his chair and took a couple of calculated steps forward, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist as he gazed up into the hunter’s shocked green-hazel eyes. “Doesn’t it suit you?”

The hunter shifted uncomfortably at that “come fuck me” glow in those bright eyes. It amazed Sam that this man could go from deadly archangel to irresistible sex-kitten in two seconds flat. He found that he liked it, quite a bit more than he ever thought he would from another man. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Gabriel purred, running his hands up Sam’s bare arms and watching in delight as the hunter tried to lean into the caress before flinching away. He pressed closer to Sam, smirking and leaning up a few inches so his lips could brush against Sam’s ear. “As much fun as this is, you need to wake up.”

“Wake up?”

“Sam!”

The hunter jerked in shock as he opened his eyes, disoriented, slowly realizing that he was lying in his bed in the bunker, not reading a book in the library or talking to a long-dead archangel. Dean stood by his bed, a mix of concern and supreme annoyance on his face. Clearly he had been trying to wake his brother for a while. Castiel stood in the doorway, clad in his traditional trench coat and near-emotionless almost-smile as he waited for his friend to wake. “Ok, I’m up,” Sam grumbled, moving to roll onto his back so he could get out of bed as Dean joined Cas at the door and left the tall hunter alone.

“Don’t take long, we have a case today.”

Sam waited until his door closed before turning on his bedside light and slipping out of bed. Closing his eyes, he ran through his dream a couple of times, wondering why Gabriel had been on his mind for the first time in half a year. He used to think about him all of the time, wishing that they had taken more time to get to know the archangel-turned-pagan-god, but he had died standing up against Lucifer at Sam and Dean’s insistence. “Gabriel,” he whispered, his mind on the glowing golden eyes that had so entranced him in his dream. “I’m sorry I haven’t prayed in a while; it’s been pretty busy over here. We, uh, we saved Dean from the Mark of Cain, but there was an unintended consequence. The Darkness, Amara, was released, and we have to find a way to stop her.” 

He gathered his clothes and got dressed for the case, trying to decide what else he wanted to say to the late archangel. He remembered the feeling of Gabriel’s hands on his arms, at how warm and real it seemed at the time. “I don’t know why I keep praying to you, honestly—even Castiel doesn’t know where angels go when they die—but I have to hope that you can hear me. I want you to know that I really do miss you, and I wish there was some way you could be here with me now. I’ll, uh, try to keep in touch more often, ok?” Sam thought he felt the faintest brush of lips on his ear, but when he reached up to touch the spot there was nothing there. Shrugging, he grabbed his weapons and left.

A pair of golden eyes watched him from the shadows, darkening sadly before disappearing.

* * *

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Sam?” The taller hunter had been oddly silent during the first hour of their drive, staring out the window and lost in thought. Dean knew better than to try to get his brother to talk about his feelings, but he was willing to let the angel try.

“What color are the archangels’ wings?”

“That’s an odd question, Sammy, especially since all of them are dead or locked away.”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, I know, Dean, but I’m curious. Humor me, Cas. Gabriel’s wings were gold, right?”

“Yes,” the raven-haired angel answered slowly, not doing a very good job of hiding his shock that Sam seemed to know that. “Like most powerful angels, his feathers changed color from the base to the tip, with a honey-gold color fading to a brilliant bright metallic golden shade on the tips. He was hiding his true nature the last time I saw him, so I don’t know if leaving Heaven affected them at all. It is unlikely that his wings changed, however.”

“And Lucifer?”

“Well, they were golden-orange before he was cast out of Heaven, but now they are red, with a darker burnt color on the tips. Michael’s wings are white, but they change color in the light, similar to the flakes of color inside an opal. It is often remarked that he had some of the most beautiful wings in Heaven.”

“And Raphael’s wings were brown.” Sam’s voice was confident now, clearly just confirming information that he had received from another source.

“Yes, they were. They were golden brown at the base and a dark walnut shade at the tips. He was very proud of them, despite having the smallest wings of the four archangels. Gabriel—”

“—had the largest,” Sam completed, smiling at the angel. “I, uh, found some information on angel wings in the library,” he temporized, injecting a small amount of truth into the statement to keep his brother from getting suspicious. “It was mostly speculation since no one has ever seen an archangel’s wings.”

“No, they wouldn’t show them to humans.”

Dean glanced at the angel in his rearview mirror, clearing his throat as he tried to figure out the best way to ask Cas something that could be incredibly personal. “Uh, Cas, what about you?”

“What about me what, Dean?”

Dean clenched the wheel tighter, wishing as he frequently did that the raven-haired angel would just understand what he was trying to ask. “What about your wings?”

Castiel raised one eyebrow, blue eyes locking with green in the rearview mirror. “They used to be a dark charcoal black color, but when I died the second time and was elevated to seraph, they gained a deep blue sheen. The shade is not unlike the feathers of a raven, though with more blue undertones in the light.” He trailed off at that, not mentioning that now his feathers were too burned and ragged for the color to matter.

“And, of course, you have six of them now,” Sam added helpfully, “since you’re a seraph.” He turned slightly in his seat, remembering something else that dream-Gabriel had mentioned. “Cas, Zachariah was a seraph, too, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. So were Hannah, Naomi, Ezekiel, Gadreel, and Bartholomew. Most of the faction leaders that you met or heard of during the civil war were also seraphs.”

“Are you bigger than them?”

“Sam! That’s a really personal question,” Dean scolded, the faintest blush darkening his cheeks. “Maybe you can put that a different way?”

“Dean, I don’t understand why that would be a personal question,” the angel returned. “I can certainly see why Sam would be curious about my true form. Yes, I am now larger in my true form than any other seraph in the Heavenly Host. I was not originally, but I have grown through my association with you two and through surviving your escapades.”

The car fell into a companionable silence after that, Sam staring out the window again as he considered everything that Castiel had confirmed. How had he known all of that about the four archangels and their seraph friend? His hazel eyes widened in shock as he realized that if the information had actually come from Gabriel, there was no way that trickster could have known about Cas becoming a seraph since he died before that happened.

What the hell was going on in his mind?

* * *

“I thought this was a simple werewolf case.”

“Yes, I did do a rather impressive job of making it look that way, didn’t I, Squirrel?”

Dean rolled his eyes as the unrepentant King of Hell lounging in the booth, taking a seat on the opposite side after nudging Cas in first. Sam frowned and pursed his lips, a facial contortion that Dean liked to call Bitchface #4, one that he tended to save for dealings with Crowley. “You actually kill anybody?”

“No, just planted some fake evidence that would make its way back to you. I needed to speak to you about something more important than werewolves, and I thought this conversation should be held in person.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a charged glare, Sam sighing as he relented. “What is it, Crowley?”

“Well, Moose, it seems that Lucifer’s cage has developed a crack.”

“A what now?”

Crowley sighed and took another sip of his mixed drink, eyeing the angel as the brothers placed their orders with the waitress. As soon as she left, he continued. “The powerful and ancient spells that hold Lucifer in his cage were weakened when the Darkness was released. We need to find a way to secure the seals in case the cracks start to spread.”

“Has he broken free?”

“No, not yet, but the demons that I set to guard the Cage said they hear whispers. It’s not just Lucifer who is trying to break free. They have heard Michael yelling, screaming, and banging against the seals. At least Lucifer doesn’t have a vessel down there and only Moose here is strong enough to hold him up top. He may burn out a few human vessels if he gets free, but we should have no problem containing him again.”

“Michael has a vessel,” Cas replied, his dark voice more ominous than usual. “If he escapes, he will have his full powers, his wings, and his access to Heaven, three things that Lucifer won’t. With all of the other archangels dead, Michael would be unstoppable.”

“Great,” Dean growled, clenching his hand into a fist on the table. “That is exactly what we need right now; a mad archangel who can’t be too happy that Sam and I are alive.”

“I doubt he would be my biggest fan, either,” Crowley admitted. “None of my people know anything about the Cage, but I was hoping you boys with your bunker full of archaic knowledge might have an answer.”

Sam nodded. “We can start research immediately. Have you examined the spells that hold the seals in place? Any information will be helpful, especially since the only thing we really ever learned about it was how to throw Lucifer back in.”

Crowley nodded. “My demons have taken extensive readings. I can have them compile their reports for you by the end of the day. Shall I meet you here, or do you have a better rendezvous spot?” He watched as the boys exchanged a charged glance, clearly discussing the situation silently between themselves. Cas reached up and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, frowning and shaking his head.

Sam cleared his throat, ignoring the angel’s warning. “Look, I’ve give you coordinates for the bunker. The warding will prevent you from popping in, but if you knock I’ll open the door.” Sam pulled out his phone and texted Crowley a set of coordinates, holding one finger up in warning. “You only come over if you have something on Michael or repairing the Cage, okay? I’m serious.”

Crowley made an X over his heart with one finger, grinning at the taller brother. “I’ll drop by later tonight, Moose, with all the information I have.” He finished his drink and dropped a pile of bills on the table, heading outside where he could disappear in private.

“You just invited the King of Hell to stop by the bunker whenever he wants,” Cas growled, eyes darkening in fury. “Do you really think that was a good idea?”

“If it means stopping Michael, then yeah,” Dean answered, taking Sam’s side and downing the rest of his beer. “Let’s grab some food while we’re here, then we’re heading back to the bunker. We have a lot of research to do.”

* * *

They drove back to the bunker in silence, each of them considering the implications of the failing Cage and mad archangel within. They were all pretty sure that they could keep Lucifer from escaping, but Michael was a new, unexpected problem that they were not prepared to combat. Cas thought back to his oldest brother, to that _fury_ in his blue eyes as he was consumed by holy fire, just moments before Lucifer killed him. Michael had been terrifying when he was in charge of Heaven, but insanity would have made him far worse. Cas could still remember the agonizing punishments he had received at the archangel’s hands, and he almost preferred Naomi’s mind control to Michael’s violence.

“Cas, what are we looking at here with Michael? We only met him a couple of times, and we never fought him directly.”

“You can’t fight him directly, Sam. No matter what Lucifer thought of his odds at the battle in Stull Cemetery, there was no chance that Michael was going to lose that fight. He was always the strongest of us, and the entire Heavenly Host would not be able to stand against him.”

“Then what can we do?”

“Lock him back in the cage. That’s our only hope to avoid his fury.”

“Geez, Cas, could you sound any more pessimistic?”

Cas tilted his head and met Dean’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Would you prefer that I lie? Dean, he hates you for refusing to be his vessel, he hates me for that Holy Fire Molotov, and he hates Sam for overcoming Lucifer long enough to throw both of them into the Cage. If angels had hit lists, we would be on his. We would _be_ his.”

Dean raised one eyebrow at the seraph. “So, when he gets free, we’re his targets.”

“Yes, most certainly.”

“Well, what can we do to stop him from breaking out?”

Sam sat up straighter in his seat, his face lighting up as an idea blossomed in his mind. “The Book of the Damned. I’ll bet there’s something in there having to do with the Cage.”

“Yeah, but only Rowena can read that, and she’s long gone.”

“Then we’ll find her, Dean. And we’ll convince her that she should help us prevent the two architects of the Apocalypse from getting out of the Cage.”

Dean shrugged. “Well, it’s more of a plan than Crowley had. As soon as we get back, we’ll start searching for our wayward witch.”

* * *

The impala pulled up to the bunker, a tremor shaking the ground as they reached the garage. Dean exchanged a confused glance with his brother before parking the car and heading back outside, raising one hand to shield his eyes as he looked into the forest outside of the bunker. Gesturing for his companions to follow him, he checked his weapons before they headed into the trees. He could hear a high-pitched whine coming from somewhere in those trees, riding a fierce wind and emphasized by infrequent tremors.

“Dean, we should go back.”

The hunter looked over his shoulder at the angel, pausing for a moment as he considered the warning. “Cas, this is right on top of the bunker. Nothing should be able to find us here, so we need to make sure that we aren’t in any danger from whatever this is.”

Cas summoned his angel blade and held it up, his blue eyes hardening into that warrior façade that he had worn when he first started working with the hunters. Dean actually hesitated at that, wondering if the angel’s defensive actions should encourage him to turn back. Sam drew his gun and nodded toward his brother, waiting for Dean to lead them into the trees.

Dean marched forward, pausing every time he felt a tremor. “They’re getting stronger. These don’t feel like earthquakes.”

“They aren’t,” Cas replied ominously. The three men entered a large clearing as another tremor shook the ground, the wind slowing as darkness fell around them. The angel moved to stand in front of the hunters, his eyes glowing with grace as an ominous shudder passed through him.

“Cas, what the hell is going on here?”

“I am not sure, Dean,” the angel growled back, his blade in one hand and his other held out to the side defensively as he tried to stay in front of the hunter. Sam, his gun at the ready and an angel blade in his belt, hovered at the edge of the trees, struggling to see into the gloom. The ground shook again, Dean spreading his legs wider to keep his balance. A bright light filled the clearing and Castiel gasped, reaching back to grab Dean’s arm. “We have to go, now.” For the first time since the angels fell, Cas cursed his burnt wings and weakened powers. Now, more than ever, he needed to be able to send Dean and Sam far away; anywhere would be safer than this clearing.

He flared his grace as the trees in front of them exploded, protecting the hunters from any shrapnel while he prepared to face the angel he knew was coming. He felt his grace fade slightly as a greater force pushed against him, a tall form appearing in the shadows. He shook his head in disbelief as a pair of furious glowing eyes met his, the eyes he had last seen consumed by Holy Fire. “Michael,” he whispered.

“What?!” Dean turned to face the archangel, still wearing his half-brother as a vessel, stepping closer to Cas as he reached for his own angel blade. He sensed Sam move into a fighting stance further back, though neither of them had any idea what they could do against a crazed archangel.

“Oh look, it’s the fallen angel _Castiel_ ,” Michael hissed, flaring his grace and pushing against Cas with it. The seraph glanced at the hunters behind him, gripping his blade tighter as he faced the archangel and his fury.

“Dean, you need to get Sam out of here.” His steady, commanding tone had a franticness that Dean had never heard before, and it terrified him.

“What? Cas!”

The raven-haired seraph flared his grace again and rushed toward Michael, slashing at his oldest brother and forcing him back a step. He hoped that he could keep the archangel occupied long enough for the hunters to escape, banking on the fact that Michael probably hated him more than Dean or Sam. Michael reached out and grabbed Cas’s shoulder, shoving him to his knees and forcing him to bury his grace or risk being burned out. “I’m going to rip you to shreds,” Michael growled, sending a shock of grace through the younger angel and grinning as he screamed.

“CAS!!!” He struggled against the darkness that began to cloud his vision as Dean’s hand wrapped around his arm, then he felt the archangel teleport them all away.


	2. Gabriel

Sam slammed his fist on the table, unable to feel the pain through his despair. Michael had Dean and Cas; what was he supposed to do to get them back? He couldn’t fight the archangel and he had no idea how to find him in the first place. He wasn’t even sure how he had made it back to the bunker, the last hour lost in a confusing haze of fury and terror. Some very, very small part of him had hoped that Cas had teleported himself and Dean away from Michael, even though the angel blade left on the ground in the forest belied that theory. He had searched the forest for them, screaming until his voice almost gave out, but they were gone.

Sam looked up at the bunker door, closing his eyes and sighing. Michael had known where they were, had known to ambush them less than a mile from their own home; there was no way that Cas and Dean would escape the crazed archangel on their own. He struggled to contain his emotions as he reached in his pocket for his cell phone and tapped through his contacts before dialing a number he was all-too-familiar with. Sam hated having to rely on the King of Hell for anything, but honestly there was no one else who could help him, especially in an all-out fight against Michael. He climbed the stairs and stepped outside as he heard the call connect.

_“Moose.”_

“Crowley, Michael got Dean.” Sam barely finished the sentence before Crowley appeared before him, ending the call before leading the demon down the stairs and taking a seat at the library table. Sam was suddenly very happy that he and Dean had decided to offer the King of Hell an invitation to the bunker.

“Tell me what happened.”

“What do you think happened? Michael got out of the damn cage and came after us. He grabbed Cas in the forest outside the bunker and Dean was stupid enough to rush in after him. There was a flash of light and all of them were gone.” It was a quick synopsis, but he doubted that any of the details would help the demon any. “I have no idea where they are. I found both of their phones on the ground so I can’t track them that way, and Cas long ago warded both of us and himself against any tracking spells I could use. _If_ I even knew one to try.”

Crowley spread his hands in an apology. “I didn’t know he was out. We haven’t detected a change in the Cage, so he must have forced his way through a crack that my demons thought was too small for an escape.”

“I know. But now he has my family, and we have to find them.”

“That isn’t your biggest problem, Sam,” Crowley murmured, for once using the hunter’s real name in deference to the severity of the situation and the fragility of his mood. “You couldn’t kill Michael even if you found him. Only another archangel could do that, and you’re fresh out.”

Sam perked up at that, determination in his hazel eyes. “Maybe we aren’t. Lucifer is still stuck in the Cage, isn’t he?”

“Of course. The crack that allowed Michael to escape was too small for our mutual enemy since the Cage is keyed to him and he doesn’t have a vessel.” The smaller man leaned back and shook his head as the import of Sam’s question made itself clear. “Moose, you cannot release the Devil to fight Michael. There’s only one vessel strong enough to contain him, and if he takes you it’s the damned Apocalypse all over again. You already lost your pet angel killing the last archangel who wanted to start that fight up.”

“What if he has a different vessel? If it isn’t me, then there can’t be an Apocalypse, right?” Crowley nodded slowly, working his jaw as he considered Sam’s words. The hunter knew him too well, however, as his face darkened into a scowl. “What are you hiding?”

“What do you mean, Moose?”

“Crowley, we have spent too much time together over the last few years, as much as I am loathe to admit that. I know when you are hiding something.”

The demon frowned, relenting a moment later. He really liked Dean, as much as he could like a human, and he didn’t want to stand in the way of getting the hunter back. “I may have had some of my demons look into building bodies that can contain angelic souls no matter how powerful.”

“Why the hell would you be doing that?”

“In case Lucifer got out. I doubt he would be content with me ruling Hell if he were to escape and I do not look forward to the torture I would endure under his Kingship. I wanted to have a series of spells built into the vessel that would allow me to control or contain the angel inside. Lucifer most certainly remembers that I tried to help you kill him last time he was on Earth, and if he gets free again I’m toast.” Crowley offered a nonchalant shrug. “They have repaired the body that he used before you, strengthening it to hold an angel, but they tell me that an archangel is much stronger and will likely burn it out. They don’t know how long it will take to perfect the vessel, and the spells are another matter entirely.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t even know if he would accept the vessel and help us. He really has no reason to like me or Dean.”

“It’s moot point unless we can open The Cage, in any case,” the demon admitted. 

Sam grinned and tapped his finger on the table. “Rowena. I bet that book of hers can open the Cage and maybe even help us control Lucifer. Did you have any luck tracking her down?”

The King of Hell grimaced and stood from the table, the look of distaste still on his face. “I have had my demons on it since she turned her attack dog angel on me, and they have only heard unsubstantiated rumors of her location. I feel like they may be getting closer, but I can’t promise you anything. You do understand that she absolutely cannot be trusted, so there is something I need you to bring me once I find her.” Crowley reached into his pocket and produced a small piece of paper, passing it to the hunter. “There is a reaper at the address on that paper, and she has an artifact that I need. I do not know if you are well acquainted with Billie, but she has been of some help to me in the past.” With that, he vanished, leaving Sam alone in the bunker once more.

He picked up the paper and read the address, a note at the bottom mentioning a password and that it had to be sung. He read through the verse, knowing that Dean would have been the one going and having to sing this tune at the reaper’s door. At the thought of his brother, Sam’s vision blurred and he felt tears fill his eyes. Drawing on self-control he didn’t believe he had, the hunter tucked the paper in his pocket and turned toward the archives, hoping to find a tracking spell to help Crowley pin down his mother. He paused before leaving the front table, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

“Gabriel,” he whispered, cursing how watery his voice sounded as he prayed to the absent angel. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t trust Rowena or Lucifer, and I’m worried that trying to get Dean free could end up triggering the Apocalypse. I really wish you were here.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Sam had his gun out in a second before he even consciously registered that there was another person in the bunker with him. He stared down the barrel of his pistol into a pair of insanely gold eyes much lower than he thought they should be, topped by a head of swept-back dark blonde hair. Sam slowly holstered his gun, staring in shock at the youngest of the archangels and one who was most certainly dead. He reached into his pocket and found a small pack of salt, pouring it into his palm and gingerly tossing it on the smaller man. Gabriel frowned in a really impressive imitation of Sam’s Bitchface #27, the one he used when Dean was doing something that was both incredibly stupid and excessively childish. “I’m not a ghost, Samsquatch, and salt doesn’t deter angels.”

“But, you died.”

Gabriel shrugged, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Well, not exactly.”

“Dude, we went back to the hotel after we were sure that Lucifer was gone. Your wings were burned on the floor. Your grace had exploded. Gabe, I’ve seen enough dead angels to know what it looks like.”

The blonde shrugged and nodded. “It was a second illusion, similar to the one that made Kali think she had killed me. Lucifer knew that I would try to trick him, so I had to give him what he wanted. Once he had killed me, he would never have reason to search for me and I could go into hiding. He thinks that I learned all of my tricks from him, but after I left Heaven I found a much more capable teacher. Besides, a normal angel blade could never kill me.”

Sam raised one eyebrow. “What do you mean, a normal angel blade can’t kill you? When you went up against your brother, you seemed pretty determined that your life was in danger.”

“Thing is, Lucifer was cast down from Heaven before the Archangel Blades were forged, so he probably didn’t know that those are the only weapons that can kill another archangel. To be fair, the rest of us had never tested the theory that an archangel couldn’t be killed with a normal angel blade, and I am not pleased to have been so close to being the guinea pig.” Gabriel shook his head and rolled his shoulders as he remembered the fight with his brother. “There was a chance, a pretty high chance, that Michael and Raphael were wrong and Lucifer _could_ destroy me. I don’t know if he ever learned about the Archangel Blades, but without one I could never have come back and defeated him. Thankfully, you two found a better way.”

Sam reached out and pulled the archangel into his arms, smiling as the smaller man hugged him back, his head fitting neatly under the hunter’s chin. “I can’t believe you’re back.”

“It’s all thanks to you, Sam,” Gabriel murmured, happily resting his forehead on Sam’s shoulder. He was grateful for the hunter’s insane height; it was nice to feel the power of those arms wrapped around him and the knowledge that he didn’t have to be strong for once.

“What do you mean?”

“You prayed to me, Sam. For years. Every time I heard your voice, I grew stronger. I hid with a few friendly pagan gods and used most of my power to completely ward myself against the other angels, the archangels, God, and whoever else might be watching because I wanted to be able to return to you.”

Sam pulled away from the archangel, shaking his head to clear away the tears that kept trying to return. “Why did you come back now? Michael is free and we’re one wrong move from starting the Apocalypse. Again. This is the kind of situation where I would expect to see you running for the hills.”

“You needed me.”

The answer was so simple, so pure, so reminiscent of the straightforward way Cas tended to speak, and it made Sam see Gabriel as an _angel_ for possibly the first time since they met a decade earlier. He seemed calmer, perhaps a bit more at peace with himself since he faced Lucifer. “Gabe, can you beat Michael?”

The blonde shook his head. “No, he was always stronger than me. What I told you in your dream was true; all of my brothers could always defeat me in a straightforward fight. I could use misdirection sometimes to get around them, to best them, but it was rare. Even with all of the new tricks I learned over the past few thousand epochs, Lucifer was still able to see through most of them. I managed to fool him in the end, but I doubt Michael would have fallen for it. I want to help you get Dean and Castiel back, but I can’t face Michael alone.”

“What if . . .” Sam trailed off, a look of pain darkening his features before he gained control of his emotions. “What if Lucifer helped you?”

“Sam, you can’t let him out. You’re the only vessel strong enough to hold him, and that road leads to another Apocalypse. You have to know that.”

“I do, Gabe, but I have to save my brother.”

The archangel stepped away from Sam, materializing a bowl of ice cream as he took a seat at the table. He waved his hand and a second one appeared beside him, Sam frowning as he sat down. “Uh, I’m lactose-intolerant.”

“I know. That’s lactose-free ice cream. The best one I have ever found. Try it.”

Sam lifted his spoon and gingerly tasted the treat, surprised to find that it tasted perfectly like vanilla ice cream. At his smiling approval, Gabriel returned to the conversation at hand. “Sam, don’t hate me for saying this, but there’s only one reason Michael took our brothers. He wants to punish them for the Apocalypse debacle. He thinks that if Dean had accepted him as his vessel, he would have won and defeated Lucifer that day. If Cas hadn’t set my brother on fire and given yours five minutes to speak with you, there’s no way you could have broken free of Luci’s control long enough to drag both of them into the Cage.”

“He’s right,” Sam admitted, digging into his frozen treat. He never ate anything with this much sugar in it, but after the day he had suffered through he truly needed it.

“Well, Dean won’t say yes. So Michael will torture him and eventually kill him and Cas.”

Fury filled the hunter’s eyes as he moved to stand, to yell at Gabriel for daring to predict Dean’s death. The angel’s hand on his arm stopped him, and he reluctantly returned to his seat.

“Samsquatch, don’t get angry at the messenger. I can see your doubts and I know that you came to this conclusion on your own some time ago. You have to accept that this is not a mission to rescue our brothers, because it is unlikely that either of them will survive.”

“So this is pointless?”

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t return just to tell you that. But if you take away Dean and Cas, what’s left?”

“Stopping Michael,” he answered with conviction, realizing where Gabriel was trying to lead him. “Locking him up before he takes over Heaven and starts the Apocalypse again.”

The archangel nodded as he polished off his ice cream. “That being said, we’re absolutely going to rescue our brothers.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at the determination and _power_ in his friend’s voice. “Gabe, I think I know who can help us.”

* * *

Castiel groaned, ignoring the pounding in his head and the burning pain that danced across his skin as he forced his eyes open. There wasn’t much to see. He was locked in a cell of some sort, three similar ones nearby, each with a single toilet and sink and four bunks along the wall. There were no lights and no windows, so he had no idea what time it was or how long he had been out. He forced himself to sit up, groaning against the pain from the singed edges of his grace where Michael had forced him to submit, glancing down as he realized that a weight was pulling on his neck. He reached up and felt the cold metal of a collar, Enochian runes etched into the dark silver surface. An angel collar.

“Dammit,” he groaned, feeling an aching _emptiness_ where his powers should be. Wearing the collar, he wasn’t strong enough to escape this cell. He reached for his upper arm, the phantom imprint of Dean’s fingers wrapping around it echoing through his mind. That impossible, stupid, green-eyed hunter had grabbed him, even knowing that Michael could destroy them both with a thought, and he had been dragged along by the teleport to wherever Cas was. “Dean?”

The angel heard a sharp cough from the cell beside his, followed by a furious groan as the hunter sat up and surveyed his surroundings. Even without access to his powers, Cas still had enhanced senses, so he crawled over to the side of the cage and reached through the bars to touch Dean’s shoulder, exactly where his handprint had been when he pulled the hunter out of hell.

That familiar touch calmed the elder Winchester, and he reached up to grab Cas’s arm, finding the bars in short order. “Where are we, Cas?”

“It looks like a prison, or perhaps the lockup area of a sheriff’s station. It appears to have been abandoned some time ago.”

“Perfect. We’re probably miles from civilization, too. It’s going to take forever for Sam to find us.” Cas felt Dean shift, probably looking around as his vision adjusted to the dark. “Cas, please tell me that we were not grabbed by _Michael_.”

“You know the answer to that, Dean,” Cas sighed, leaning his head against the bars.

“He’s been trapped in The Cage for the better part of a decade. He’s insane, and you and I are probably his least favorite people right now.”

“Me more so than you, I’m afraid,” Cas growled, grabbing Dean’s hand and pulling it through the bars to touch his collar. He gave Dean a chance to trace the symbols etched into the metal before he spoke again. “I can’t access my powers, Dean. I can’t get out of this cage. I can’t get you out.” A sudden flash of anger filled him, and he clamped his fingers down on Dean’s arm. “Why did you grab me? I told you to take Sam and run! Michael only wanted me; there’s no reason for you to be stuck in here.”

Dean turned toward Cas and narrowed his eyes, giving the angel one of his most disbelieving looks. “You thought I would just let him kidnap you? Cas, we’re family and I am not letting Michael hurt you.”

A maniacal laugh filled the darkness, a single light turning on in the hallway between the two sets of cells. Dean flinched away from the sudden brightness, but Cas stared at his oldest brother standing just inside his cell. Michael, still wearing Adam like an ill-fitting suit, watched the hunter and angel with insanity-bright eyes for a moment before stepping forward, leaning down, and grabbing the edge of Cas’s collar, slipping his fingers into the small gap between metal and skin. He jerked the younger angel roughly to his feet, ignoring his strangled cry and Dean’s furious roar. “You’re the annoying little bug who burned me with holy fire and gave that stupid Winchester enough time to talk to Sam, letting him take control of Lucifer and throw us both into The Cage. You lost me the Apocalypse.”

“ _You_ lost you the Apocalypse,” Castiel growled back, ignoring the collar as he pushed closer to the archangel, getting in his face and grabbing the lapels of his jacket. “You never needed to fight Lucifer; it would have destroyed the world. Our Father never wanted that! You just wanted revenge on Lucifer for having the balls to _defy Him!!!_ ” Standing against the bars of his cage, Dean couldn’t help the thrill of pride that ribboned through him as Castiel stood up to the most powerful of the four archangels, even knowing that he was powerless and his brother was _completely_ insane. He was also a little amused that some of his more colorful language was integrating itself into Cas’s normal speaking patterns.

“Angels are not meant to disobey, you stupid child. God told us to obey, and that is what I have done for thousands of years. You were the always the irresponsible little fly in the ointment and your rebellion cost me my true vessel and my one and only shot at Lucifer.”

“You never had to free him,” Cas replied hotly. “You could have kept him locked in the Cage and left well enough alone. God is gone, and this cannot be what he wanted. After you left, thousands upon thousands of angels died, first in the civil war and the aftermath, then in the faction war, then in the fall, and now they are still lost and leaderless. If you hadn’t broken the Seals, none of that would have happened.”

“That’s a brave accusation, coming from the angel who defied his leaders, slaughtered members of his own garrison, and attacked an archangel with holy fire for the sake of one stupid human.”

Cas narrowed his blue eyes, a smirk lighting his face. “I also killed Raphael and every angel that followed him,” he purred, chuckling at the shock on Michael’s face. “You didn’t know that, did you? After everything that happened, I doubt Heaven will follow _any_ archangel, even you.”

Michael snarled at the seraph, tightening his grip on the collar as he wrapped his free hand around Cas’s upper arm. The younger angel screamed as fire burned through him, tearing at his grace and scorching his mind. He tried to pull away, but the collar held him fast, Michael’s insane laughter following him into oblivion. “That’s what it feels like to be burned by holy fire,” the archangel hissed, dropping the unconscious angel onto the floor.

“CAS! What did you do to him, you son of a bitch!?”

“I burned his grace. Not as effective of a demonstration as burning his vessel, but I doubt he could reconstitute while held by that collar and I don’t want him to die just yet.” Dean had dropped to the floor of his cell, desperately reaching through the bars for the seraph, but he turned furious green us up toward Michael at his words.

“If you lay a hand on him again, I swear—”

“That you’ll do what?” Michael interrupted, his mocking tone reminding Dean of the Leviathans speaking through Cas when they were possessing him. “Bleed on me to death? Dean, I’m just getting started, and you’re next. I was going to beat you to a bloody pulp in front of your little angel, but now I see that torturing him will hurt both of you more than I could imagine.”

“What do you want?” Dean’s voice was strong and defiant, but Michael could hear the slightest thread of desperation weaving its way into the human’s words.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want to punish Castiel for what he cost me, what I am still determined to have. Dean, I want what I’ve always wanted. I want you to say ‘yes’.” Michael leaned down and grabbed Castiel’s hair, pulling his head off the floor. “And now I think I finally have the leverage to get that.”


	3. Lucifer

Sam glared at his laptop as he sorted through hundreds of reports of supernatural activity across the country, discarding most of them as non-angelic, but a few of them had potential. He checked his GPS tracking program and shot off a few messages to any hunters that were close enough to check the reports, waiting until all assignments were accepted before sighing and leaning back from the table. Every hunter he had contacted, even a couple in Canada, had agreed to help find Dean Winchester, most of them commenting on how famous he and his brother were in a community that he barely knew existed.

“Any luck?”

“Yeah, a little. There are some reports that seem celestial in nature, in places without confirmed reports of lesser angels, so I have some of my hunters checking them out.”

Crowley chuckled as he poured himself another shot of scotch. “ _Your_ hunters. Samantha, you’re sounding more and more like a Man of Letters by the day.”

The hunter froze at the words, tilting his head as he focused on the King of Hell. “How would you know? The Men of Letters have been gone a long time, and you weren’t anyone important in Hell when Abaddon was running around destroying them.”

“True, but I have had other dealings with the Men of Letters since I become the King of the Crossroads, dealings that strengthened when I took over Hell. Mostly in the UK.”

“There’s a British Men of Letters?”

The demon nodded. “A rather large organization. They tend to be ruthless and single-minded, however. I would avoid all confrontation if possible.”

“Duly noted.”

Sam jumped as his archangel ally appeared on the map table, lounging comfortably with a sucker in his mouth. “No one in Heaven will admit to knowing anything about Michael,” he reported. “I got the feeling that there were missing members of the Host, and I even heard about a whole garrison that had gone dark.”

“Where?”

“The last known location of the garrison captain and lieutenant was a small town in southwest Nebraska. They were sent to investigate a sighting of Amara, but they never came back.”

“Maybe they weren’t comfortable talking to you, the archangel who ran away.”

Gabriel turned to face the King of Hell, glaring at him in annoyance. “Obviously I hid my true self. I masqueraded as Ishim, a garrison commander who is rather popular upstairs. Castiel used to be in his flight, if I remember correctly.”

Sam nodded and pulled up his reports, narrowing them down to Nebraska. “Gabe, I don’t see any reports from that area that could possibly be attributed to Amara. I have here a few church massacres near Denver, Omaha, and Cheyenne but nothing in the southwest part of Nebraska.”

Gabriel hopped off the table and took the seat beside Sam, leaning over to see the hunter’s screen. “Can you load all of the areas where you got reports of Amara killing?”

Sam nodded and opened his online mapping program, quickly loading a new layer and importing his spreadsheet of GPS coordinates of confirmed Amara kills, watching as the pins appeared on his map. He saw the pattern a moment later, gasping in shock. “Gabe, I think you found it!” Dozens of colored pins on his map formed a rough circle around an empty area between I-80, US-6, US-83, and US-385, as if she had intentionally avoided that area. “This is still a huge area, but much smaller than the whole country.” He zoomed the map out, hazel eyes scanning the cities near that area. “I’ll see who I have nearby who can help out.”

Crowley cleared his throat. “I have a few demons nearby I can send to scout for you.”

“I thought you said that you couldn’t help.”

“Beyond Lucifer’s meat suit, I hadn’t planned on it, Moose. However, I can send some of my more expendable demons in who do not know what they are hunting for. If some of them fail to return . . .” The demon trailed off, knowing that Sam understood what he was intimating. “But once they know that an archangel—and possibly an entire angel army—is there, I won’t get a demon within a hundred miles of the place. An angel touches one of us, and poof! No more demon.” Gabriel twitched his hand toward the King of Hell, and Crowley jumped back, cursing at his reaction. “Look, you half-sized angel; do that again and I will find a way to kill you!”

Gabriel chuckled and leaned against Sam’s shoulder, the faintest blush warming his cheeks as he realized that the hunter was not pulling away. “Samoose wouldn’t let you.”

“You can’t call him that,” Crowley growled. “Moose is my nickname for the great lummox. Get your own!”

Sam chuckled at the two of them fighting, wondering at how strange his life had become that he could watch a great archangel bickering with his new friend, the King of Hell. He turned slightly to rest his eyes on the dirty blonde head leaning against his shoulder, slowly slipping his left arm around the archangel’s waist. Shocked golden eyes turned up toward him as Crowley lapsed into stunned silence. “I’m glad you’re back, babe,” Sam whispered, resting his forehead on Gabriel’s and closing his eyes. He didn’t notice when Crowley vanished, off to summon his promised demonic help, but he wouldn’t have cared even if he did.

“You called me ‘babe’,” Gabriel whispered.

“You can’t possibly mind,” Sam murmured, letting his eyes flutter closed again. He could almost _feel_ the bond between them, pulsing in time with the archangel’s breath, warming him and calming his roiling thoughts. Sitting there, as Gabriel reached out to twine his fingers with Sam’s, the hunter could almost believe that they were going to win, that they were going to find their brothers and defeat Michael. “What are you doing to me, Trickster?”

Gabriel chuckled, and amusement filled Sam’s mind. He opened his eyes at that, staring into those ancient golden orbs and whatever deep emotions might be hidden there. “What do you know about guardian angels, Sam?”

“Uh, not much. From what Cas said, it’s not an actual angelic rank, but more of a title. He wouldn’t really answer any questions about it.”

“It is something like that. But it’s not a title that others give us, or something that we earn. It is something that we are chosen for.” Gabriel pulled back from Sam, slipping out of his jacket and holding his arm out for the hunter to see. Sam raised one eyebrow, seeing nothing marring the smaller angel’s skin, but he reached out and placed his fingers where Gabriel told him to. He felt a flash of heat, passion, and something deeper overlaid with a fierce protectiveness. “We are chosen to be guardian angels.”

“An _archangel_ can be chosen?”

Gabriel grinned, raising his hand and resting it on Sam’s cheek. “Yes, even an archangel can be chosen. You prayed to me, Sam, for years. You asked me to come back, to protect you, and I accepted. Just as Castiel accepted his fate when he sided with your brother against Michael.”

Sam reached out and brushed his fingers against the invisible mark on Gabriel’s arm again, smiling as the archangel shivered and _lust_ flashed through the link. The hunter raised one eyebrow and grinned as Gabriel pulled his arm away and shrugged back into his jacket. “Are you going to tell me what that was?”

“Not if I can help it,” he replied cheekily. “Although it’s quite a profound bond, so I imagine that you’ll find out eventually.”

“That’s what Cas said about his relationship with Dean, years ago.”

“Yeah, that sounds like my lil’ bro.”

 Sam grinned and ran his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, watching as the archangel almost purred at the attention. “What is Dean going to say when he sees me with someone who has nearly as much hair as I do?” Something, a fragment of a memory, whispered through his mind, just loud enough for Gabriel to catch it.

The archangel leaned forward, furrowing his eyebrows as his fingers hovered barely an inch from the hunter’s temple. “Sam, will you give me permission to look at your memories of last night? Something you thought about . . . I just need to see it.”

“Of course, Gabe.” Sam felt gentle fingers touch the side of his head, then a brief flash of light filled his mind and a _pressure_ then it was gone.

Furious golden eyes turned away from him, Gabriel jumping up and stalking across the room, lightbulbs flickering as he passed. He was flaring his grace, or losing control of it, and Sam carefully caught him as he passed. “Gabe, what is it?”

“He burned his grace. My stupid, arrogant, _misguided_ older brother tortured one of the few siblings I have ever cared about. _Again_. He fucking burned his grace.”

“Cas? I didn’t see much, just a lot of bright light.”

“Dean knew. That’s why he grabbed Cas and forced Michael to take him, as well.”

Sam tilted his head, searching through his memory of the incident. “Dean grabbed Cas? Maybe he cares for that nerdy little angel more than I thought.”

Gabriel sighed and clenched his fists at his side. “That makes it worse, Sam. Michael will sense that bond between them immediately, and he will torture my brother to hurt yours. I’ve seen him do it, a dozen times to Castiel alone, before I left Heaven. It’s one of the reasons I left.”

Sam grabbed the angel and wrapped him in a tight hug. “We’ll get them both back, alive and healthy. I can promise you that.”

* * *

Dean looked up as Cas groaned into the silence, the dark-haired seraph finally waking up from whatever Michael had done hours earlier. The archangel’s last words and threat still echoed in his mind, and Dean was glad that Cas had not been conscious for that.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Cas. You okay?”

“That is debatable.” The angel shook his head and moved into a sitting position, scooting up to the cell bars and leaning against them, struggling to conceal his crushing exhaustion. He felt Dean’s hand on his shoulder, and he let himself smile. “That hurt more than I was expecting.”

“He said that he burned your grace.”

Cas nodded, twitching every now and then as a trace of that fire flared up inside him. “It is a most effective punishment for disobedience. Long before Naomi began reprogramming errant angels, punishment was left in the hands of the two archangels, Michael and Raphael. This was before Gabriel left Heaven or Lucifer was banished, though neither of them ever approved of or participated in the reprimands. They would burn the edges of our grace as punishment for any infraction or disobedience.” Castiel rolled his shoulders and shuddered. “One visit to Michael was usually enough to deter any relapse.”

Dean pushed Cas’s shoulder, turning the angel so he was forced to look at the hunter. “Did he do that to you?”

Cas nodded. “At least a dozen times,” he whispered, unable to meet Dean’s gaze. “After the last time I was punished for arguing with my garrison commander, Gabriel had a huge fight with Michael, and I never saw him again. Naomi perfected her reprogramming method soon after.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“I didn’t remember before,” Cas replied. “When you helped me break free of Naomi’s control, I could remember everything she wiped from my mind including all of the punishments I received from Michael. At the time, it hardly seemed relevant.”

“Cas, I can’t let him do that to you again.”

The angel narrowed his eyes, the faintest flare of his muted grace behind those blue orbs. “What does Michael want from you? What did he tell you while I was unconscious?”

Dean clenched his jaw and looked away. “He wants me as his vessel.”

“No.”

“Cas—”

“No,” the angel repeated, his face brooking no argument. “You will not accept.”

“He’ll hurt you again.”

“He’s hurt me before,” the seraph replied sharply, “and I can survive it. Accepting him will not protect me, Dean, and it will kill you.” Cas glanced down at his hands, twitching as another aftershock of Michael’s power shot through him. “What do you think it will do to me, to be punished by Michael when he is looking out through your eyes?”

Silence fell between the two, Dean not trusting himself to control his emotions as he imagined the scene that Cas had painted, and the angel worried that he had said too much. He felt Dean’s hand move to his other shoulder, the hunter’s arm wrapped behind his back as he pulled the angel closer. Cas leaned his head on the bars between them, closing his eyes as he realized that Dean understood what he had tried to say. “I’m stronger than you think,” the angel whispered.

“I know.”

* * *

Crowley appeared in the map room, eyes taking a quick inventory of the bunker and the absence of a certain blonde archangel. Sam still sat at his computer, reading through reports from his hunters and checking for news of angels. “Any news?”

The demon cleared his throat and pulled a folded map out of his suit pocket. “Yes, Moose, I have quite helpfully narrowed the area down for you.” He pointed at a small circle inside the geographic boundaries that Sam had outlined, an area between towns in the empty wilderness of Nebraska. There was the tiniest of dots near the edge of the red circle, a town either too small or too old to have its name written on a map so large. “I lost thirty demons in this area, and the scouts everywhere else returned safely. These lost ones were somewhere near this dot, a town that suffered at the hands of the angels during that war they fought against themselves to break the seals and release Lucifer.”

“This town was destroyed by angels?”

“Probably to stop one of the seals from breaking. They destroyed a lot of small, insignificant towns during your early dealings with them.” Crowley waved his hand dismissively, and Sam forced himself to let it go, also. He remembered how ready Uriel and Castiel had been to smite an entire town to stop the rise of Samhain, and they had mentioned that the angels had done the same thing elsewhere. This must be one of those places. “I lost all five demons within minutes of each other, so I would venture that Michael has some backup.”

Gabriel reappeared behind Sam’s chair with a flutter of wings, smiling as he placed a hand on the hunter’s shoulder, speaking in answer to Crowley’s final words. Clearly the Trickster had been listening in and waiting for an opportune moment to make his appearance. “I was finally able to get a head count on missing angels. Apparently some of the angels I was speaking with did not like Ishim, but I tried a few other disguises and some of them worked out pretty well. Including the two angels from that garrison that were patrolling in southwest Nebraska, thirty total angels who were recently obedient are refusing to communicate with the Host. The leaders don’t want to risk a repeat of Castiel’s rebellion, which caused the death of many thousands of angels, so they are keeping it a secret.”

Sam half-turned and showed the map to the archangel. “Crowley thinks he found the town where Michael is holed up. Most likely he found a convenient abandoned building and locked our brothers up there.”

Gabriel took the map and frowned. “Why haven’t we heard reports of a sudden influx of angels there? Michael was always fond of flaring his grace, and archangels take out whole power grids when they get to showboating. Surely someone noticed.”

“Not if the angels smote this town seven years ago to prevent the breaking of a seal,” Sam countered. “The problem is, we can’t fight thirty angels on our own, especially not with Michael there, too. We really need help.”

“We need my mother,” Crowley replied. “And we need to finish the body for Lucifer, and we need to convince him to fight with you.”

“I believe I can help with all three of those things,” Gabriel offered. “Mother’s name?”

“Rowena MacLeod.”

Gabriel caught the woman’s image from Sam’s mind, grinning as he vanished.

It took him less than five minutes to return, an angry redhead in one hand and the Book of the Damned in the other. Crowley chuckled as his mother was gently encouraged to sit, Gabriel checking her dress for hidden pockets where she might have secreted hex bags. Content that she was relatively harmless, he handed the Book of the Damned to Sam. “This is what you need to get Lucifer out of the cage and into your constructed body, correct?”

“What is the meaning of this, Fergus? You sent an angel to fetch me and force me to do your bidding? Is that any way to treat your mother?”

The King of Hell grinned, resting his hand on a long box nearby that contained the collar he had asked Sam to fetch for him. “The last time we met, you forced Castiel to kill me, and I must admit that I am fonder of that angel than I am of you. I felt that a little persuasion might be required in this case. Besides, I sent the Archangel Gabriel after you, not some common angel; certainly that shows how much I care?”

“Why I am here, Fergus?”

“You already know the answer to that. We need to talk to Lucifer and, if he’s amenable, break him out of imprisonment in the Cage so he can help Gabriel find Michael and free Dean and his pet angel.” Crowley opened the heavy box, lifting out the strange, spiked leather collar and leaning over to fasten it around his mother’s neck. “However, I don’t trust you, so we’re taking some precautions this time.”

“Fergus!”

“Silence, Mother,” Crowley replied, grinning smugly as the redhead fell into a reluctant silence. He pulled the Book of the Damned across the table, waiting for Sam to hand over the Codex and a pad of paper before issuing his command. “Now, we need to speak to Lucifer while he is still trapped in the Cage, and I’ll wager there’s a spell in that book to help us. While you’re at it, see what our options are to release him if he proves cooperative.”

Rowena glared at her son, but she had no choice but to obey, opening the book and leafing through the contents. Grabbing the Codex, she began the laborious process of translating the ancient encrypted text.

* * *

Castiel looked up in concern as Dean shivered in the chill of the abandoned station, valiantly trying to resist the urge so he could continue to hold his angel. “Dean, you are cold.”

The hunter shrugged. “The floor’s made of cement and these bars aren’t much better. I guess you can’t feel it, as an angel.”

Cas shook his head as he sat up and looked around, blue eyes settling on the ancient mattresses on the bunks in Dean’s cell. They were discolored and probably broken, but they would be a lot warmer than sitting directly on the floor. Green eyes followed the angel’s steady gaze, the hunter grinning as he realized what Cas had found. “Great idea, man.” He pointed toward the mattresses in Cas’s cell, gesturing for the angel to grab one for himself.

“Dean, I do not feel the cold the same way you do.”

“Yeah, I know, but if you . . . if Michael burns you again, you might.”

Cas didn’t answer, didn’t want to answer, but he knew that Dean was right. If his grace faded much more, he would start to feel many of the common human weaknesses, like cold and hunger.

Hunger.

Cas dragged his mattress over to the bars, watching as Dean settled on his own before he spoke again. “Dean, we have been here for hours. By my count, nearly sixteen. That means you haven’t eaten or had anything to drink in close to twenty.”

Dean shrugged. “I’ve gone longer with less.” Dean absently rubbed his hands up and down his arms, cursing himself for leaving his jacket in the car, thinking that he wouldn’t need it on so warm a night. Cas shrugged out of his trench coat and passed it through the bars, narrowing his eyes when it looked like the hunter might refuse it. Dean slipped his arms through the sleeves and sighed in relief as he wrapped the heavy cloth tightly around his body and sat down on his mattress. “Dude, my arms are swimming in this thing. It always looked so tight on you.”

“I work out,” Cas replied cheekily, his eyes sparkling at the joke. Dean chuckled as he looked at the angel’s arms hidden under that dark suit jacket, realizing that he must be quite fit. It had been some time since he had seen the man without a shirt on, but he seemed to remember a pleasing amount of _buff_. As if he had caught a whiff of that thought, Cas grinned back, ducking his head as a faint blush dusted his cheeks. “Dean, you should check the sink and see if you can get water. I doubt Michael intended for you to die of thirst here, and the human body can only go three days or so without liquids.”

Dean nodded and headed to his sink, surprised when water came out of the tap at the flick of the handle. Waiting a moment to make sure that the color was clear, Dean took a sip, drinking deeply after deeming it suitable. After quenching his thirst, Dean returned to his mattress and slouched against the bars again, reaching out to grasp Cas’s hand in his own. He jumped as his stomach, its thirst finally quenched, cried out for food.

Cas smiled. “Check the pockets of my trench coat. I always carry snacks and protein bars.”

“Dude, why?” Dean started checking the pockets, surprised that there were so many. He found a protein bar first, then a pack of peanut butter and cheese crackers, and then a small pack of skittles. In a small, hidden pocket near his left breast, he found a simple black cord attached to something heavy. Pulling it out, he realized that he was holding his amulet, the one Sam had given him as a child, one that he had thought he threw away. “Cas?”

The angel hung his head. “You weren’t supposed to find that. Sam gave it to me a few weeks ago, said that it was better with me than with him. He said that I am important to you, and that the amulet would keep me close to you.”

Dean reached out and slipped his fingers under Cas’s jaw, forcing the angel to look up at him. “You _are_ important to me. I think you should wear the necklace.” He handed it through the bars, smiling in gentle encouragement until the angel took it and slipped the cord over his head. “Looks good there.” He tore into the protein bar first, followed by the crackers and another trip to the sink for water. He finished the tiny bag of candy, wishing for more but supremely grateful that Cas had been carrying even that much.

“Cas, why are you carrying all of this food? You don’t eat.”

“No, but you forget to. Frequently. Sometimes food would just miraculously appear for you and Sam while I was on a hunt with you; didn’t you ever wonder why?”

“Yes, well I did kinda’ wonder but I figured Sammy had just learned to be prepared.” He patted the other pockets, wondering if Cas had anything else hidden there, but he came up empty.

“I meant to replenish my supply, but I haven’t had a chance since the last hunt,” Cas apologized, watching as Dean exhausted his search for more food. “You should have rationed it better, Dean,” Cas scolded, watching as the hunter, now that he was significantly less hungry, yawned.

“Maybe, but a person can go three weeks without food. You and I won’t survive that long in here; I can’t imagine Michael will allow it. So, either Sam finds us within three weeks or we’re dead anyway. I do appreciate the food, though, truly.”

“You should try to get some sleep, Dean.” The unspoken _before Michael returns_ floated between them, but Cas wouldn’t say it. The angel slipped out of his dark jacket, leaving himself clad in only his white dress shirt, folding it up neatly and reaching through the bars to make a small pillow for his hunter. “I’ll watch over you.”

“I know you will.” Dean stretched out on his mattress, reaching one hand through the bars to twine his fingers with Cas’s before closing his eyes so exhaustion could claim him. The angel smiled as he watched him slowly surrender to sleep, shivering as a flash of pain danced across the burned edge of his grace again. He had forgotten how long the aftereffects of Michael’s punishments could linger.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” The hunter hovered at the very edge of sleep, but clearly something was still bothering him.

“Where do you think Michael went?”

“Probably to gather angelic support,” Cas posited. “Even after I decimated Raphael’s ranks, there must still be some angels who would like to return to the old ways, to the old leaders.”

“Damn.”

* * *

Gabriel stood outside the line of fire, staring into the small cage, the seated vessel that they were going to offer Lucifer propped up in a chair nearby. He had been able to help Crowley’s demons complete the body, ensuring that it was finally strong enough to hold an archangel before letting Rowena use the spell she found in the Book to crack open the Cage. The blonde watched as his brother appeared in the form of his first vessel Nick, confused blue eyes meeting confident gold.

Crowley, Rowena, and Sam watched the silent confrontation, wondering who would break the stalemate first, none of them terribly surprised when Lucifer lost. “Gabriel. I killed you.”

Gabriel chuckled and twirled his angel blade in one hand, golden eyes glowing with a trace of his grace. “Looks like you aren’t as good as you thought you were.”

“Why are you here? Is it because of Michael?”

Gabriel nodded. “How did he get out, Luci?”

The archangel sighed and turned away, walking a small circle around his cage before answering. “If I knew, I would have followed him.”

“We need your help to stop him from wreaking havoc on Earth.”

“You need my help?” Lucifer leaned forward, pushing against the bars as if he could force his way out of his imprisonment. “You told them how to trap me! Why should I help you?”

“I never wanted this,” Gabriel replied softly, and Sam suddenly felt like he was intruding on something that should be private. “Luci, I hated it when you and Michael fought. I hated it when Dad yelled at you and you refused to go along with his plan. I was happy when we were younger, when we were a family, before Dad made all of the lesser angels and long before humanity was a sparkle in His eye.” His voice softened, and there were tears in his eyes as he tried to reach his brother. “I want our family back; I want to go home.”

“Our family is gone, Gabriel. Dad abandoned us, Raphael is dead—”

“Yes, but _we’re_ still here! Lucifer, you and me and Michael _can_ be a family again if you will both give up this Apocalypse nonsense. We can talk to him, reason with him, maybe heal him. You’re my _brother_ , Lucifer, and I love you. And I know that you love Michael, too, that you always have. I don’t want either one of you stuck in here anymore, and I’m tired of running.” Sam exchanged a confused look with Crowley, nodding toward the two archangels. When had their plans changed from putting Michael and Lucifer back in the Cage to letting them both free?

Lucifer stared at his brother for a long time. “When I felt the spell, I thought that you were going to ask me to help with the Darkness.”

Gabriel shrugged, having stowed his blade somewhere in his leather jacket. “We may. But right now we need to get Dean and Castiel out of Michael’s clutches and contain our errant brother. I may be better at tricks than you now, but you are still stronger. I need your help to stop Michael. And, yeah, after that we might have to figure out what to do about the Darkness, since dear old Dad doesn’t seem to care, but I would rather do that _with you_ than alone.”

Lucifer stepped away from the bars again, pulling into the shadows and glancing over Gabriel’s shoulder at Sam. “If I help you, you’re just going to throw me back down here when it’s over.”

“I won’t, Luci.”

“Sam will! And who’s going to be my vessel? I know that he’ll never say ‘yes’ again.”

Gabriel nodded. “You’re right, he won’t. If he did, it would just be the Apocalypse all over again. Sam won’t be your vessel, and he won’t throw you back in the Cage. If you agree to help us, and you agree to _behave_ on Earth, in Hell, and in Heaven, I’ll never let anyone put you back in here.” The archangel gestured toward the empty vessel sitting nearby, smiling as Lucifer moved back to the bars. “We rebuilt your original vessel and made it stronger. It can hold you indefinitely. You want to come try it out?”

“You really want me to, baby bro?”

Gabriel smiled at the older archangel and took a step closer, stopping just outside the flames. “Lucifer, you may be a great big bag of dicks, but you are my brother and I love you.”

The Devil chuckled and grinned at the younger archangel, closing his eyes briefly and lowering his head in an approximation of a bow. “In that case, let’s go find Michael.”


	4. Castiel

Dean woke slowly, wiggling his empty fingers as he slowly sat up and looked around for his angel. Cas was seated on the bottom mattress of the left-hand bunks in his cell, carefully breaking off the metal slats holding up the top mattress. He removed one more, placing it to the side with three he had already taken, gathering them up and returning to his mattress. Silently, knowing that the hunter needed no explanation, Cas handed two of his makeshift weapons over, keeping two on his mattress for himself. “You slept for five hours.”

“I can’t believe Michael has been gone that long.”

“I think his time in the Cage weakened him more than we thought. Attacking me may have cost him more than it would have in the past.”

“Have you healed at all?” Dean cast his eyes over Cas’s form, as if he could see the celestial injury. He did let his eyes linger on the muscular definition he could just make out through the thin white shirt.

Cas shook his head. “No, it takes a very long time to recover from burned grace. The last time Michael punished me, it was months before I returned to full strength.”

Dean ran his fingers over the makeshift weapon and sighed. “These won’t do much against Michael, you know.”

“I know, but I think that we’ll both feel more comfortable with a blade in our hands.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Oh, look, how cozy.” Dean and Cas shot to their feet, each of them holding a metal slat as they fell into a fighting stance. Michael chuckled and tilted his head slightly, that flare of insanity still shining from behind his blue eyes. “Dean, have you thought about what I said to you?”

“He has,” Cas growled, “and he will not be your vessel. I gave up _everything_ seven years ago to keep him safe from you, and I will do it again in a heartbeat.” Without any other warning than that, Cas rushed the archangel, slicing him across the chest and slamming the slat into his face on the backswing. Michael narrowed his eyes and grabbed the metal bar, jerking it out of Cas’s grip and throwing it across the room, his free hand wrapping around the angel collar again.

Cas screamed as Michael’s power slammed against him, tearing at the tattered edges of his grace and burning the rest anew. He heard Dean scream his name, but he couldn’t even catch a breath through the pain, let alone answer. Michael’s hand on his collar jerked and released him, Cas collapsing on his knees as he looked up at the oldest of the archangels. One of the long metal slats that Cas had given Dean was sticking out of Michael’s chest, the hunter glaring at him from his own cell. He had thrown it as if it was a spear, knowing that it couldn’t hurt the archangel but needing to do something, _anything_ , to make him leave Cas alone.

“Get your hands off my angel.”

“Dean, please,” Cas whispered. “Don’t.”

Michael vanished in a flutter of wings as the metal bar fell to the floor, the archangel reappearing in Dean’s cage and flaring his grace at the hunter. Dean set his jaw and raised his remaining slat, swinging it at Michael as the archangel moved closer. Michael grabbed the bar and swung it at Dean, the hunter dropping to the ground as blood dripped from the side of his head, gasping at the searing pain suddenly pounding through his skull. The archangel’s eyes flared as he kicked Dean across the room, the hunter crying out as something broke inside him, grunting again as his shoulder impacted against the wall.

“DEAN!” Cas jumped to his feet, running to the cage bars despite the fire still flaring through his grace, wrapping his fingers around two of the bars and pulling on them with all of his human strength. “Leave him ALONE!”

Michael turned to Cas and glared, walking over to the prone hunter and kicking him again, reveling in the pained gasp he elicited from his potential vessel. Castiel slammed into the bars again, light glowing around the clasp of his collar as he tried his best to flare his grace at the older angel. Ignoring him, Michael lifted Dean by the neck and slammed him against the wall, punching him in the chest and laughing at the crunching sound of ribs breaking. “One way or another, Dean, you will say ‘yes’ to me.”

“Never,” Dean growled defiantly, coughing wetly before spitting a mouthful of blood on the angel. Michael’s eyes hardened as he raised his free hand, grace glowing in his palm as he prepared to punish the human for his insolence. He froze as he felt the angry flare of another grace beside him, turning to watch in shock as Castiel _broke_ his angel collar and started to burn through the two bars he had been trying to bend.

Michael dropped Dean onto the unforgiving ground, appearing behind Castiel and forcing him onto his knees, flaring his grace as the younger angel tried to gather enough strength to push his brother away. “You are the vilest, most pathetic of our Father’s creations, and I will show Dean what a _worthless_ creature you are.”

He slammed Castiel against the bars, holding him in place with his knee while he _grabbed_ at the air behind his back with both hands. Dean looked up from his prone position, eyes widening in shock as Cas’s huge tattered wings suddenly appeared behind him, both of them drooping in pain as the angel struggled to escape. Dean could feel Cas’s pain and terror flashing across their link, followed by a desperate plea. _“Dean, don’t watch. Look away, please.”_

Dean pushed himself up onto his knees and one elbow, trying to ignore his pounding head and panting at agony pulsed from his broken ribs and dislocated shoulder, refusing to break eye contact with his trembling angel. He could feel a frightening certainty across their link, only just realizing that the comfortable _knowing_ between them had been gone while Cas wore that collar. Cas seemed to know what Michael was planning, and Dean was suddenly very afraid that the seraph hadn’t told him everything about the punishments that he used to receive at the malicious hands of the archangel.

“You are a sad, broken little angel,” Michael hissed, bearing down with his grace to prevent Castiel from moving as he grabbed his wings. Cas screamed as Michael wrapped his fingers around a clump of his burned feathers, ripping them out and throwing them on the floor, reaching back to repeat the process as he continued. “You are worthless, you tore heaven apart, and you cast our remaining siblings out of their home.” Dean cried out, trying to move closer, to do something, but he couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as Michael continued to pluck his screaming angel.

“Please, Michael,” Cas gasped, the bars he was holding glowing under his palms. “Let me go, please brother.”

“You are no brother of mine,” Michael growled, grabbing the last of Cas’s ruined feathers and jerked them free, watching as they fell to the ground. “You don’t deserve wings or grace. You certainly don’t deserve that mark on your arm given to you by my misguided vessel.” He grabbed Cas’s naked wings just below the wrist joints, holding them out and turning to Dean. “Do you see how broken, how ugly, how insignificant he is? Why would you continue to defy me for his sake? He is nothing.”

“He’s not _nothing_ ,” Dean hissed, crawling forward on his knees and one good arm. “From the moment he pulled me from perdition, he has been _everything_ to me. I don’t give a damn about his broken wings or what he did to the angels; he has always been there for me and for Sam. Nothing else matters. He is _family_. He is _my_ angel, and you will give him back to me.”

Michael sneered and tightened his hands on Castiel’s burnt wings, the angel gasping at the sudden pressure on his fragile bones. “I’ll break these useless stumps off, see how much you want him then.”

“I wouldn’t care if he didn’t have wings, or even if he was human, Michael. He’s still mine _. Let him go!_ ”

Michael squeezed threateningly one last time before pushing Castiel to the ground and vanishing. The bars above the angel’s mattress were melted and thin where he had gripped them tightly in his pain, almost broken by that desperate flare of his power. He panted as he struggled to close what was left of his wings, lifting his head to watch Dean struggle across the floor. “Don’t,” Cas whispered, pushing himself up on his hands. “You’re injured.”

“Not as much as you, I’d imagine.” Dean made it to his mattress, grunting as he pulled himself to the bars with his good arm, panting as he leaned against them. “Cas—”

“Dean,” the angel whispered softly, “don’t. I’ll be fine, I promise.” He scooted closer to the bars, still lying in a prone position, reaching through the bars and finding Dean’s fingers. “What you said about me, did you mean it?”

“Of course I meant it, baby,” Dean whispered, squeezing Cas’s hand comfortingly. “You have to know how much I care about you. How much I need you.”

Cas smiled at the underlying feeling that chased the words, happy that the link with his hunter had returned at the loss of the collar. He clenched his jaw and focused what was left of his grace, pushing some it through his hand and into Dean. It was just a tiny bit, but it was enough to heal all of the human’s wounds. Dean took a deep, steadying breath, fury flashing across their bond as he released Cas’s hand and turned toward the bars. “Cas!”

“Dean, I had to. You were in pain.”

“I’ve been in pain before,” the hunter growled, reaching out to run his fingers gently through the angel’s dark hair, his tender petting belying his harsh tone. “I can survive it. But you don’t have enough grace left to be wasting any on me. You need to get your strength back.”

“It doesn’t seem to matter anymore,” Cas whispered. “Attacking Michael was a colossal mistake and that was my last plan. Even with the collar off, I am far too weak to get us out of here.”

“Can you call anyone? On angel radio?” Dean pushed himself to his feet, wiping the last of the blood from his chin as he examined the bars that Castiel had half-melted. He grabbed one in both hands and started to wiggle it, first pushing then pulling in an attempt to break it free.

Cas closed his eyes and reached out, groaning at the sharp pain in his skull. “No, they have blanketed the area in static. There are thirty angels out there yelling in Enochian as loudly as they can to keep me from calling out, or anyone else from listening in. Not that I really have any friends left in Heaven who would bother to look for me.”

Dean grunted as he broke the first bar free, switching to the second one and wiggling that one out, also. As soon as he created a large enough gap, the hunter squeezed through into Cas’s cell, crouching down on the mattress beside his angel and casting his eyes across his injured wings.

He hadn’t had much occasion to examine any birds’ wings, but what he could see matched the structure that he barely remembered from school when he was much younger. The wings joined Cas’s body at the shoulders, the strong joints visible through two jagged tears in the white dress shirt, blood from his empty feather follicles staining the fabric. Cas still held them half-open, trembling with pain, but it was clear that the long humerus bone would reach all the way down to the bottom of his back when the wings were closed. His elbow joint was a tough knot of bone under red and blackened skin, three bones meeting there before the long radius and thin ulna continued out to Cas’s wrist joint. The tops of his wings would clearly rise above his head when folded. The wings themselves were thick, with strong musculature to carry his heavy feathers, though they narrowed at the wrist where the thumb bone was folded tight against the short finger bones, the thinnest and final part of the angel’s wings. There were tiny black feathers sticking out along the limbs, all of them burnt and too small for Michael to have grabbed.

“Do they hurt?”

“Yes,” Cas replied, trying in vain to fold them and crying out at the agony. Dean cursed and pulled the angel into his arms, holding him carefully so as not to cause him any more pain. The angel sobbed into Dean’s shirt, wrapping his fingers in the lapels of his trench coat and holding himself as close as he could.

“Shhh, angel, it’s okay. You’ll heal.”

“Oh Dean, they hurt so much. I don’t know what to do to heal them. I don’t know if I can. I used the last I had on you; I don’t have anything left to give.”

“Does the air hurt them?” Cas nodded miserably, his wings shaking as he fought against the almost irresistible urge to fold them. “Well, let me see what I can do about that, baby.” Dean shifted Cas until he was sitting with his back to the hunter and his hands wrapped around the bars of their cage. Dean reached for the hole in the shirt under Cas’s left wing, carefully ripping the fabric down to the bottom and repeating the procedure on the other side. As soon as he had freed Cas’s wings, he reached around and carefully released each button, slipping what was left of the shirt off of his angel’s shoulders. “Cas, I’m going to tear this into strips and try to wrap your wings. I think it will help with the pain.” Cas, nothing covering his chest except a loose blue tie and the amulet, nodded his assent.

It took Dean a long time to tear the shirt into long strips, realizing that it wouldn’t be enough as soon as he was done. He slipped out of the trench coat and his flannel over shirt, pulling off his black t-shirt and ripping it into strips, also. Pulling his flannel back on and buttoning it up, a task he rarely bothered with, Dean reached out to place his hand on Cas’s lower back, just below the burnt wings. “Cas, I’m going to start with the right wing, okay? It’s going to hurt, but if I wrap them tightly the pain should be lessened later.”

“Go ahead, Dean.”

Cas jerked at the first touch at the base of his wings, Dean holding the leading edge of the first strip as he began to wind it around the damaged tissue. He carefully wrapped the entire wing, both marveling at the wonder of touching such a magnificent wing—the only part of Cas that was truly _him_ and not his vessel—and controlling his fury at what Metatron and Michael had done to them. He wrapped each section of the wing with the stiffer white cloth, using the softer black t-shirt material for the joints and tips, hoping that it would prevent too much rubbing once the wings were closed. He finished both wings and reached for Cas’s tie, gently slipping it free of its knot and stretching it out in his hands.

“Cas, can you fold your wings now? I think it would be best if I tie your wings closed so you don’t hit them on anything. Until you can hide them again.”

“That’s best,” Cas whispered. “I don’t feel them the same way when they are in the celestial realm. I don’t actually feel the other two pairs at all right now. I can’t help but be grateful that a seraph cannot manifest the lower wings no matter the provocation.”

Dean placed his hand on the outstretched tip of Cas’s left wing, carefully helping the angel fold it against his back. He followed with the other wing, slipping the tie under both and wrapping it around the top about halfway down, pulling it tight enough to hold them in place but hopefully not cause any additional pain. He tied it into a knot, tucking the loose ends out of the way as he turned the angel around. “There, how does that feel?”

Cas sighed and relaxed, leaning forward to lay his head on Dean’s chest again. He shivered in the cool air, his grace too low to protect him from the elements anymore. Dean reached down for the discarded trench coat and wrapped around the angel like a blanket, pulling the raven-haired man into his lap and wrapping his arms around him. The tips of Cas’s wrapped wings poked out above the top of the trench coat, but he didn’t seem to be in any additional pain. “Better,” Cas whispered.

“Rest now, my angel.” Dean helped Cas cuddle deeper into his arms, leaning up against the bars so he wouldn’t fall over. He never really cuddled with women, passing through them too quickly to need to spend any time nurturing their emotions. He had even been distant with Lisa, no matter how hard he tried to give her the love and companionship she craved.

But Cas was different. Their bond was deeper, stronger, forged in battle and death, and he knew how very much the seraph needed him to be the strong one for once. All Cas wanted was to be held, and to know that he was loved, especially after the awful things that Michael had said to him. He leaned down and touched Cas’s forehead in a gentle kiss, hoping that the gesture would be some kind of comfort to the angel. “I love you,” he breathed, not sure where those words had come from but knowing that they needed to be said. He could count on one hand the number of times he had said that phrase in his life, and he had always thought it would be harder to ever tell Cas how he felt. After what they had just gone through with Michael, though, it just seemed _right_ and he knew that the angel wanted to hear it.

Cas, half asleep and in a kind of pain Dean couldn’t imagine, smiled against his shoulder. “I know.”

Dean chuckled, wrapping his left arm more tightly around Cas’s waist. “I should never have let you watch _Star Wars_.”

“You love it when I make pop culture references,” Cas countered, the words vibrating against Dean’s throat.

Dean ran his fingers through Cas’s dark hair, hoping that it would soothe the angel as much as it did him. “Cas, what did Michael mean, about me marking you? All I know is that you did that handprint thing when you pulled me out of Hell, but I have a feeling that he was referring to something else.”

Cas cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s a completely different situation. I chose to rebuild your soul and body, which is why you had that mark on your shoulder. But you . . . you chose me to guard you many months later, and I received a mark on my arm.” Cas held his left arm out and nodded toward a spot on the inside, just near his elbow. Dean raised an eyebrow, not seeing anything. “It’s invisible to humans, but trust me, it’s there. It’s very rare for a human to choose an angel to guard him, and we get a mark when you do. It enhances our bond, lets me hone in on you more easily, and let me hear your prayers the loudest.” He held his arm out expectantly, waiting for Dean to bring his right hand down and gently touch two fingers to the spot that Cas indicated.

Dean gasped and pulled his hand away, amazed at the depths of emotions he had sensed from his angel. “Do you always feel like that?”

“When I’m near you,” Cas whispered, curling up to the hunter again. 

“When did it appear?”

Cas ducked his head, clearly embarrassed. “When I grabbed you in the room where we waited for Michael and you looked in my eyes with _trust_. That was right before I drew the angel sigil and blasted Zachariah away so you could escape.” 

Dean nodded, running his fingers through Cas’s dark hair again. “Sounds about right.”

“I’m tired, Dean.”

“I’m sure you are, baby. Get some sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

“I know you will.”

* * *

The hunters who lived nearby, like Jody and Claire, arrived at the bunker on their own. Donna was with them, a portion of her impressive arsenal in the back of Jody’s SUV. Alex had opted to join them, wanting to help save the hunter who saved her life. Tasha Banes, by all reports an impressively powerful natural witch, arrived an hour later with her twins, Max and Alicia. Sam had never run in hunter circles, but apparently the three of them were famous up north.

Asa Fox and his friends Bucky Sims, Randy Bull, and Elvis Katz lived too far away to make it to Kansas in a reasonable amount of time, but Asa had insisted that they be included so he could honor the debt he felt he owed to Mary. Thankfully, two archangels made transporting people quite simple, and Lucifer had simply grabbed the trio, car and all, and dropped them just outside the bunker’s door. Walt and Roy arrived on their own, both of them terrified that Sam would hold a grudge from when they killed him and Dean years earlier, but honestly both Winchester brothers were over the incident. They had died so many times since, in much more brutal ways, that a shotgun blast to the chest seemed tame.

Gabriel collected a handful of others who were friends with some of the hunters Sam had called, one who had hunted with his mom long before he was born, and deposited them directly in the map room. He assured Sam that each of their cars were safely parked outside, ready to take the hunters home when the mission was complete. Wally, Jerry, and Rick were eager to join the fight, Eileen Leahy arriving a few minutes later and greeting Sam warmly.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Sam leaned back against the table, crossing his arms as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. Gabriel and Lucifer stood on one side of him, Jody and Donna on the other with the rest of the hunters spread out in a half-circle in front of him. How was he going to convince seventeen hunters to run into a nest of angels when Crowley and his demons refused to go there? Sam straightened as he felt a flash of confidence fill him, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the shorter archangel. Gabriel, two fingers resting innocently on the invisible mark on his arm, just grinned and twitched his eyebrows at the hunter.

“As you all know, Dean and Cas were kidnapped by a crazed angel a couple of days ago, and I need your help to get them back. The angel is Michael, and he kind of has a huge grudge against both of them for stopping the apocalypse.” He signed as much of his speech for Eileen as he could, stumbling over words he didn’t know but determined to try his best. Eileen, of course, could read his lips fairly well, but she appreciated the effort.

“Isn’t Michael an archangel?”

“Yeah, Tasha, he is. We also think he has approximately thirty other angels helping him guard the town where he has set up shop, and we’re going to have to get through all of them before we have a chance to face Michael.”

Walt and Roy exchanged a concerned glance, one that bordered on terror without quite reaching it. “Sam, you’re asking us to fight angels? We can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” Gabriel replied. “Except for the two of us, all angels can be killed with an angel blade to the heart. I’m sure, as hunters, that all of you have some proficiency with daggers and such; the blades are no different.”

“And do you have some of these magical blades laying around?”

Sam reached into his jacket, producing two extra angel blades, his own still tucked safely against his side. He handed one each to Jody and Donna, silently appointing them as his lieutenants in this fight. “The three of us will have them to start, and you should all bring your normal arsenals in case Michael has something other than angels guarding his hiding place.” He needn’t have bothered with that part; each of the hunters was armed to the teeth just standing in front of him; they would be ready for any unforeseen monsters. “As soon as a few of the angels are taken out, the rest of you will be able to grab their dropped blades and join the fight. They aren’t really the biggest challenge.”

“Gotta admit, that archangel is what worries me,” Asa mumbled. “What is your plan for dealing with him? No way we can take on Michael, no matter how many of us there are.”

Sam gestured toward Gabriel and Lucifer, grinning as they both flared their grace just enough for their eyes to light up, a few of the hunters stepping back in shock. “We’ve got two archangels of our own. Once we break through the angels, Gabriel and Lucifer here will capture their brother.”

 _“Lucifer?_ That’s the fucking _Devil_?”

Sam laughed. He honestly couldn’t help it; this was the first time since he met Lucifer that someone had the appropriate and correctly terrified response to the idea of looking the Devil in the eyes, working alongside him, or seeing him at all. Wally’s eyes widened as if the sight of Sam lost in mirth was worse than the meeting Lucifer, the other hunters shifting their feet and hands as they waited for their leader to regain his composure.

“You okay there, Samshine?”

“Yeah, Gabe, yeah. I’m sorry, it’s just been a really emotional couple of days, and honestly the idea of working side-by-side with Lucifer is pretty low on my list of concerns.” He took a shaky breath and stood up to his full height, something he rarely did around his family but often used when he needed to intimidate strangers. He almost felt like he was assuming this mantle of command, like he was finally taking charge of these rough hunters, and he was not going to let their fear of Lucifer keep them out of the fight.

“Look, I know this is weird to all of you, but Lucifer and Gabriel and facing off against Michael are kinda’ my normal nowadays. Yes, Wally, this is the fucking Devil, and he has agreed to stand with me and help me save my family. I don’t care about anything else right now, and I’m asking you, all of you, to focus on the mission and leave the details to me. I will do everything in my power to make sure that we all make it back alive, and that means trusting Lucifer. So, here’s where you make a choice. Will you follow me into battle against these angels and help me rescue Dean and Cas, or will you stay here where it’s safe?” 

Jody spun the angel blade in her hand, grinning as both of her adopted daughters stepped forward to stand with her and Donna. “Well, you know we’re in. Those boys are family, and we’ll do whatever it takes to get them back.”

“We’re in,” Asa offered second, gesturing toward the hunters who had accompanied him to the bunker. “I’m not letting one of Mary’s sons die.”

Eileen spoke up next, followed by Tasha and her twins, then Wally, Jerry, and Rick. Walt and Roy looked at each other in some silent communication before Roy nodded toward Sam. “Hell, we’re in. Figure we kinda owe it to Dean, uh, as an apology for killing you both.”

Sam grinned and brandished his angel blade, stepping into the center of the circle of hunters and archangels. “Well, then, let’s get this party on the road. Gabriel, Lucifer; if you don’t mind?”

The brothers flanked the group, gesturing for the hunters to move as close together as they could. Each archangel raised his right hand, eyes meeting through the cluster of humans as they both _snapped_ and the bunker was suddenly empty.

* * *

“Dude, we don’t even know where to look. It’s a small town, but it’s not that small.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo, we’ll find them.” Sam raised one eyebrow at the archangel’s less-than-comforting reassurance. “Look, both of them are warded against angels, and that means against me, too. I’ve tried calling on angel radio, but there is a lot of interference in the area.”

Sam turned to his pack of hunters and split them into groups, sending them deeper into town to hopefully find Michael and his minions, Lucifer electing to follow Jody and her group toward downtown. Gabriel stood in the middle of the main road, golden eyes blank as he reached out with every angel sense he possessed. Sam could feel his frustration, his determination not to fail slowly being overshadowed by the fear that his brother was already dead and nothing he did would make a difference. 

Slipping his angel blade into the pocket of his jacket, Sam stepped forward and carefully wrapped his arms around Gabriel from behind, resting one hand on the mark that made him a guardian angel. “Gabe, you can do this. Cas is smart. He knows I’m looking for him and he’s going to guess that I found angelic help. He’s calling out on angel radio, you just need to push through that static and _hear_ him.”

“If he’s conscious,” the smaller man returned bitterly. “If he’s alive.”

“He’s alive. Dean wouldn’t let him die, okay? Just try.”

Gabriel nodded and closed his eyes, dropping his head and letting Sam’s certainty flow through their bond and calm his racing heart. He was too old to be so wired, but this was one of his thousands upon thousands of siblings that he had ever truly cared about. Cas _couldn’t_ be dead. He had to find a way to save him.

And suddenly, cutting through the static for a fraction of a second before the angels could cover it up, Gabriel caught a prayer, one so desperate and so strong that it _flared_ in his mind like a beacon. The words were in English, not Enochian, and the angels who were creating the static had clearly not been expecting that language, since an angel would never communicate on angel radio in any other language but their native one. _“Please help me save Cas.”_

Sam jerked in shock, pulling away from Gabriel as the archangel turned to face him. “That was Dean! How the hell did he broadcast on angel radio?”

“The same way you heard it, kiddo. Through the guardian angel bond. Cassie is alive.”

“But in danger. Gabe, did you see where they are?”

“Yeah, I got a flash of something. It’s south of here, and it looks like a cell of some kind. I got an impression of cement floors, metal bunks holding dilapidated mattresses, and steel bars. It’s cold, very cold, and I think that Cassie is unconscious. His voice isn’t in the call, and the words were in English, not Enochian. That’s the only reason they broke through; no one expected a human to be able to transmit.”

Sam’s eyes widened as he pulled his phone from his pocket and shot off a text to the groups of hunters who had left twenty minutes earlier. “A cell? Like in a police station?”

“Yeah, like that.”

“Awesome, Donna said she found one of those informational maps of downtown a few streets over, and the police station is clearly marked. We’re all going to meet her.”

Gabriel grinned, manifesting his angel blade and twirling it on his palm. “Let’s go get our brothers back, Samsquatch.”

* * *

_“Archangels are fierce. They’re absolute. They’re Heaven’s most terrifying weapon.”_

Castiel’s words from so many years ago filled Sam’s mind, echoing with the angel’s deep, gravelly voice. He watched Gabriel as the youngest of the four Archangels slipped between two of Michael’s followers, his blade slicing through each of them in turn with barely a flick of his wrist. They fell to the ground, their grace flaring as they died almost too suddenly to recognize the object of their demise. He glanced at Lucifer, a silent communication passing between them as the elder vanished from the field of battle, appearing three yards away in the middle of the cluster of Seraphs guarding the door to the dilapidated police station. With a malicious grin and a flare of red in his eyes, the fallen angel threw them back, laughing as his lithe partner destroyed them all.

Sam couldn’t help but wish he had seen Gabriel fight in the early days of Heaven, when all four archangels stood side-by-side with God and ruled over their younger celestial kin. Even after so many billions of years, the blonde was magnificent, his diminutive stature allowing him to duck under blows that would have decapitated Sam or anyone else of a more _normal_ height. The hunters gathered around Sam were patiently watching the brothers decimate the ranks of Seraphs and lesser Angels, their weapons held at the ready but generally useless in this kind of melee. Except for Sam, Jody, and Donna, none of them possessed an angel blade and could not have been much help at all. In all fairness, Sam didn’t want to interrupt the two, content to watch the beautiful blonde as he took out the last angel.

As if he had heard the hunter’s thoughts, Gabriel glanced up from the body at his feet, his golden eyes sparking with power he had never shown before, a smirk on his lips. He winked at the taller man, jumping back as another wave of angels appeared from a nearby warehouse and the fight started anew. Sam shook his head at the gesture, struggling to push down the sudden arousal he felt at that “come fuck me” look Gabriel had sent him. Tightening his long fingers around the angel blade in his hand, he half-turned toward the hunters gathered behind him, the men and women who had turned the country upside-down to help him find where Michael had hidden Dean and Cas. They looked up expectantly, ready to rush into battle, itching for the fight that their lives as hunters demanded they join. He nodded and pointed toward the silver glints of discarded blades among the bodies of the dozen or so combatants that Gabriel and Lucifer had already defeated.

“Grab an angel blade if you can and help them thin the ranks. Remember, these guys are faster, more powerful, and harder to kill than you are, even without wings. Don’t get yourself killed.” He glanced at Claire, Donna, and Jody, knowing that they would follow him as he rushed forward, slamming into an angel and grinning as Jody jabbed her blade through his neck, jerking it free as another pair of wings were burned into the ground and Claire eagerly grabbed the blade he dropped. Asa Fox was right behind them, scooping up another one of the discarded blades, the twins hot on his heels as he headed for his own mark, a female angel circling around behind the pair of Archangels. Asa eagerly impaled the woman with his pilfered weapon, jumping back in shock as her grace flared brightly and she fell to the ground, the first angel he had ever killed. Max tapped him on the shoulder as he and Alicia ran past, the woman grabbing her own blade while her brother was content to rely on his magic. Their mother joined Walt and Roy, using her own considerable magical powers to throw one angel back while the pair struggled to take out the partner.

It only took a moment for the angels to realize that the battle had been joined, some of them turning to face the wave of hunters while the stronger ones forced the archangels back against the wall of the building. Gabriel glared at the men and women assembled before him, lowering his blade as he flared his wings. The battle near the hunters stalled as the humans and angels stared at the youngest archangel in awe, at the huge shadow of wings on the wall that was joined by a second, smaller wing shadow below it, and then a third. Gabriel was showing all of his wings, all of his powers, in a way that seraphs couldn’t and archangels rarely did. Beside him, his eyes glowing red, Lucifer flared his first pair of wings, keeping the other two hidden to avoid taking attention from his brother.

“I don’t want to kill any more of you,” Gabriel bellowed, his powerful voice thundering across the large parking lot as he showed them why God had chosen him to be His voice. “You can’t kill us and you can’t stop us from seeing our brother. We will get in that prison if we have to go through a thousand angel bodies. I don’t want that.”

“You abandoned us, Gabriel,” the nearest angel hissed, the lips of her vessel turned up in a sneer. “When Metatron cast us from Heaven and destroyed our wings, where were you? When Castiel decimated the Heavenly Host and left us adrift, where were you? When Michael was lost and Raphael went to war in an effort to restart the Apocalypse, where were you? When Lucifer was released from his Cage, where were you? You have never been here for us, fleeing like a coward into the human world, so why should we believe that you care about any of us?”

“Of course I care,” Gabriel shot back, and undercurrent of concern in his voice. “That’s why I left. I saw what Michael and Raphael were doing to Heaven after Lucifer left and I couldn’t fight them. I knew that they wanted the Apocalypse and I knew what it would do to all of you. It would have destroyed Heaven and Earth and there would have been nothing left for any of us to enjoy.” He lowered his blade to his side and let it vanish, showing his empty hands to his gathered brothers and sisters. “I wanted to show you that there was a third way, that you didn’t have to side with Michael or Lucifer. I wanted you to survive.”

“We didn’t want to just survive,” the angel growled, raising her blade again as she took a step toward the archangels; “we wanted order! We wanted leaders, and we haven’t had that since those damn Winchesters threw Michael into The Cage. He is the only one who can rebuild Heaven, and we trust him to lead us back to glory!”

The angels all moved at the same time, half of them rushing the archangels while the rest of them dove into the group of hunters. Randy, Elvis, Bucky, and Asa drew one of them off, while the cluster of huntresses pulled two of them away from the main fray. Walt and Roy, both injured from their previous fight, pulled back, leaving Rick, Jerry, and Wally with one angel while the other five headed for Sam. Four flashes of light heralded the decimation of half of the group facing the archangels, moments before Sam took out two of the ones facing him.

It took him a moment to realize that he had been lured to the edge of the battlefield and was completely alone as three of the largest angels rushed him. He dodged one and felt the other’s blade slice into his back, throwing him off-balance as he clumsily retaliated. His counterstrike left him vulnerable to attack from the third angel, which was clearly what they had planned all along. He sensed the moment that Gabriel realized what the angels had done, intentionally separating the tall hunter from his peers, but it was too late for the youngest archangel to do anything. Sam’s anguished cry froze the battlefield as one of the angels buried his blade in his side, the second jamming his up through two of his lower ribs, and the third falling to the ground with the hunter’s blade in his neck and the scorch marks of his wings on the ground.

The two angels standing over Sam exploded, the remaining angels facing the other hunters suffering a similar fate as Gabriel’s flash of rage overrode the limitations of his vessel. Sam remembered Lucifer dispatching Castiel with a snap of his fingers when he had been the Devil’s vessel, but Gabriel had told him that he had never been able to do that. Apparently he just needed the right provocation. 

Lucifer dispatched the last four angels as his brother ran to Sam’s side, concerned golden eyes quickly evaluating his wounds. The blade in Sam’s side was of less concern than the one that had pierced his left lung and embedded itself in his scapula, the angle just below what would have sliced through his heart. Gabriel knew that he couldn’t risk worrying about Sam’s other injuries before healing the damaged lung, distracted by the agony burning across their link and the blood dribbling down the hunter’s chin with every watery breath. 

Sam swallowed a scream as Gabriel slipped the first blade free, the other hunters and Lucifer gathering around them. The fallen archangel moved to check on the other hunters while Gabriel cared for their leader, though all of them were watching the healing anxiously. The blonde’s hand was shaking as it began to glow with the blue/gold of his grace, carefully sealing the deep puncture wound and clearing the blood from Sam’s injured lung. Sam’s skin was already pale from blood loss, but he struggled to cling to consciousness as the bright light flowed from Gabriel’s hand into him, healing his wounds and strengthening him as best it could.

“I’m ok,” Sam whispered, responding to the rage and terror he could feel pulsing through his link with the smaller man, breathing easier despite the blade still buried in his gut. The urge to calm his archangel down overrode his own pain, and he wrapped his free arm around Gabriel’s waist in an attempt to do just that.

The blonde relaxed just slightly, reaching out to carefully remove the second angel blade as he began the process of healing the gut wound and the deep slash across his back. “They were after you all along,” Gabriel whispered, watching anxiously as the last of Sam’s injuries vanished and his pallor darkened back to something much healthier. He rested his cheek on Sam’s chest, listening to the strong thumping of the heart beneath his ear, letting that sound settle his flaring grace and calm his powers. “Don’t do that to me again.”

“They did it to hurt _you_ , Gabe.” Sam carefully pushed himself back to his feet, pulling Gabriel up with him as he retrieved his angel blade and slipped two more into his jacket.

“Their mistake,” he growled, spinning a bloodied angel blade in each hand as he turned toward the now-unguarded dilapidated station with a nod toward his fellow archangel. “Time to save our brothers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the fight scene at the end was the first part of this fic I wrote, which is also where I got the title. I really liked the idea of a powerful Gabriel decimating these ranks of angels who were helping Michael. And, of course, I wanted to use Castiel's line about archangels.


	5. Dean

Dean stared into the dim cell for hours, not tired enough to sleep and unwilling to disturb the slumbering angel, so he was left alone with his thoughts. He had no idea what to do about Michael or how to protect Castiel from his older brother, but he knew that he needed help. He shifted the angel away from him slightly, smiling as the raven-haired man grunted unhappily and tried to cuddle close again. He pulled Cas's left arm free and laid his palm over the invisible mark below his elbow, holding his breath as he fought against the deluge of emotions and tried to organize them into something he could comprehend. As soon as he had the link under control, he pushed deeper, searching for that cacophony of voices that comprised angel radio.

He found it more easily than he thought he would, catching a few words here and there from the Enochian that Sam had helped him learn. A lot of it was unintelligible, loud static intentionally created to prevent anyone from finding them, but he was hoping that he could push through the white noise. He closed his eyes and focused every ounce of his considerable Winchester will to call out one thing, one plea, one prayer.

" _Please help me save Cas."_

He screamed as the angels nearby blanketed his call, the feedback sending a headache pounding through his skull as Cas jerked awake and pulled away, breaking the link as he reached up to place a gentle hand on Dean's cheek. "What were you trying to do?"

"Call for help," Dean replied, secretly glad that the angel hadn't heard his prayer, breathing methodically until the pain faded away. "I don't think it worked."

"I told you they were blocking us."

"You said they were blocking you," Dean argued. "I thought they might not notice me."

Cas tilted his head and sighed, amusement warring with disapproval in his blue eyes. "I didn't even know you could do that, tap into the radio through me."

Dean shrugged. "Once you told me that the mark enhances our bond, I was hoping that it would work both ways. Besides, I wanted to practice my Enochian."

Cas chuckled and reluctantly pulled out of Dean's embrace, stretching his arms and wincing as pain pulsed from his injured wings. He moved to sit beside the hunter on the mattress, pulling the trench coat a little tighter but unable to close it due to the size of his wings. "You didn't say anything in Enochian."

"No, I didn't. No one heard me, anyway."

Cas reached out and took Dean's hands in his, raising them to his lips and kissing them softly. "Sam will find us."

"How? Cas, we don't even know where we are, so how can he possibly figure it out?"

"Your brother is resourceful, and you know that he will reach out for help. Crowley, certainly, and maybe some hunters or angels who are sympathetic to our cause. You need to have faith in him." He smiled as Dean wrapped one arm around his waist, pulling him close but holding him as gently as possibly to avoid causing his wings any more pain.

"You're right, Cas. Sam will save us. And then we can go home and talk about us."

"I thought you didn't like to talk about your feelings."

"I don't. I hate it. But you want to, and I'm willing to do that for you."

Cas smiled and rested his cheek on Dean's flannel-covered chest. "Then you can teach me more about human relationships. I don't think that my time with April counts as experience."

Dean reached down and turned Cas's face up, green eyes meeting blue. "You know that she was just using you, right? I know I joked about it before, but you didn't give consent for that. You didn't even know what consent was, and she took advantage of that."

"I know. But I did enjoy parts of it. I'd never . . . I'd never done that before."

"Did you like it? Sex with a woman?"

Cas tilted his head to one side. "It was enjoyable, but I have no basis for comparison. I was an angel for billions of years, and not a hedonistic one like Balthazar and Gabriel." He smiled at the hunter, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But, you know, I've only ever tried sex with a woman. Maybe I need to try a man and see the difference."

"The hell you will," Dean growled, the hand under Cas's chin tightening possessively. "You're not trying anything with anyone else. When I told Michael that you're mine, I meant it. If you want to learn anything about life, or humanity, or sex, or whatever, you're asking me."

"You'd have sex with me? Dean, I thought you liked women."

"I do. You can like both, you know." Dean took his hand and placed it over Cas's mark, already used to the sudden power of their bond, and _pushed_ his feelings toward the angel. He knew that it worked when Cas's face softened, and a besotted smile lifted his lips. "You think I could love you this much and not be willing to give you that? It'll be different than when I'm with women, but I haven't even done that in years. Not since we got back from Purgatory. I just . . . I just couldn't anymore. It almost felt like cheating on you."

"Dean, that was over three years ago. You've been celibate for three years?"

"I know, right? Longest stretch since puberty. I did try, with one woman . . . but it ended up that she was collecting souls for a crossroads demon. And when I was a demon myself—"

"I don't care about that, Dean. I never asked you to eschew the company of women for me. I would never ask that of you. I've always known that it is unlikely that you would be attracted to a male vessel, so if we do have a relationship and you still need to sleep with women—"

"No," Dean replied sharply, calming his emotions and sending contentment through their link. "I don't need anyone else. If you told me that you don't want to have sex at all, I'd be perfectly happy with just you, just having you, even if all we do is cuddle."

Castiel laughed at that, one of those rare human-like laughs that Dean rarely got to hear. "I'm going to tell Sam that you said that. You'll never live it down." His face fell, just slightly, but it was enough for Dean to sense that something was wrong. He pushed deeper, and watched as an image of Anna passed through Cas's mind.

"She told you?"

"Yes. When she was trying to tempt me to rebel from Heaven, to Fall like she did. Anna told me of the many advantages to being human, and how you had taught her about sex."

"You think that I would have slept with you years ago if you had chosen a female vessel."

Cas dropped his eyes, embarrassment crossing their link. "The thought had crossed my mind, yes. It's not like I have never thought about you like that, but it was clear that the same thoughts had not crossed your mind. When Anna gave you the 'last night on Earth' speech, you slept with her, you taught her about sex. When it was my last night on Earth, you took me to a strip club. I figured that meant that you weren't interested in me at all."

"I didn't think . . . I've never really had relationships with men, as I'm sure you know. And you're an angel, Cas. You're this powerful, ancient celestial being who has watched humanity evolve and I'm just . . . this. I didn't think I had the right to be interested in you." He placed a finger on Cas's lips, silencing the angel's retort, his eyes begging to be allowed to finish. "When we found you in April's clutches, when she killed you and I forced Gadreel to bring you back, I thought it might be our chance to explore whatever I sensed between us. You were a human and you needed me, and I wanted you to need me. But Gadreel made me send you away, and I had to bury my feelings for you to protect Sam."

Dean paused for a long moment, his gaze focused inward as he tried to organize his thoughts. "Maybe once, a long time ago, the gender of your vessel would have mattered to me. But after I was a demon . . . I can honestly say that I've seen through all of that."

"What do you mean?"

Dean chuckled. "I guess you don't really remember, but when I was a demon I could see you. I saw your true face. And I kinda fell in love with what I saw. How could I judge your physical appearance after that?"

Cas blushed and ducked his head. "I should have thought of that. I knew that you were a demon, I mean I could see it, but it never occurred to me that you had all of the strengths that came along with that. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Dean shrugged. "Even after you and Sam cured me, I could feel the Mark of Cain still trying to take over and I thought it would be better for you, safer, if I suppressed my feelings. I'm really good at repression."

"That is a primary aspect of your personality," Cas joked, wanting the hunter to know that he accepted his explanation. Dean smiled and nodded, taking Cas's hand and twining their fingers.

"Cas, we were different people back then. Anna didn't mean anything to me. I mean, I wanted to protect her from you, I thought she deserved to live and to enjoy humanity, but I didn't want to date her or anything. I never loved her." He leaned down and rested his forehead on Cas's, closing his eyes and smiling gently. "It's always been you, even when I didn't realize it."

"Well, when we get home, you can prove it to me." Dean sensed the flash of despair a moment before Cas's crystal blue eyes filled with tears and they started rolling down his face. He gasped and shook his head, unable to stop, and Dean just pulled the angel closer and let him sob into his shoulder. He soothed Cas as best as he could, gently petting his head and holding him tightly while mindful of his injured wings.

"Shh, honeybee, it's ok. I'm going to get you out of here. I promise."

"How . . . how can you promise that?"

"It's what I do. I save people. And I'm going to save you."

Cas jerked and tightened his grip on Dean, his eyes filling with terror as he stared into the other cell. Dean held him tighter, knowing that Michael had appeared but unwilling to lose contact with his angel. "Go away, Michael," Dean growled, nuzzling Cas's neck.

A flutter of wings heralded Michael's arrival in Cas's cell, Dean glaring at the archangel as he kept Cas's head turned over his shoulder. He wouldn't let his angel look at his torturer. He would do anything he could to protect him. Michael glared at Dean and the trench-coated angel held so protectively in his arms, the tense atmosphere building between them as each tried to force the other to surrender.

Michael's face abruptly hardened, the archangel turning his head to the side as if he had heard something unexpected, and he was listening intently. Cas stiffened at the same time, and Dean guessed that angel radio must be active, but Michael stepped forward and grabbed the seraph by the back of his neck before he could say anything. Dean cried out in shock as he lost his grip on the angel, Michael burning Cas as the raven-haired man screamed.

And in that moment, Dean broke. He had tried so hard to be strong, to face this terror defiantly as he had faced every other, but it was just too much. Watching Michael holding Cas by the back of the neck and burning him like he was _nothing_ , it was just too much.

"NO! Michael, stop! Please, let him go! Please! Just . . . I'll do it! I'll say 'yes' if you just leave him alone!" Dean wrapped his hands around Michael's arm, trying desperately to force him to _stop_ , despite the futility of his actions. He might be physically larger than the archangel's vessel, but Michael was immeasurably stronger and there was nothing he could do to stop him.

Michael paused his torture, Cas hanging limply from his hand and whimpering as the archangel turned those hard eyes toward the human pulling on his arm. "You'll say 'yes'? You'll be my vessel in exchange for this pitiful excuse for an angel?"

"My angel," Dean replied, ignoring the desperate "no" that Cas breathed. The seraph was nearly unconscious, struggling to stay awake to prevent the hunter from accepting the archangel. "I'll do it for him." Michael dropped Cas back onto the mattress, ignoring the angel's cry of pain as he landed partially on one wing. Dean resisted every urge in his body that was screaming at him to comfort the angel, to hold him and make sure his wing wasn't injured, but he had to make sure Michael would accept his conditions before reaching for Cas.

"Then say it."

"I have conditions first."

"I saw what happened when we let you have conditions," Michael snarled. "Zachariah learned his lesson well, if I remember correctly. You can't have conditions. You say 'yes', or I'll kill that stupid angel."

Dean forced himself to stay calm, knowing that losing his temper would be deadly for Cas. "I know that I have a bad reputation in that area, but I just wanted Zachariah dead. I swear, this is on the up-and-up. It's a fair deal."

"You swear on what? You don't believe in Father; you have little faith in anything at all."

"I swear on Cas. On Castiel."

Michael cast his eyes over the younger angel, watching as he struggled to roll off of his wing, his breathing ragged as he held onto consciousness with every fiber of his remaining grace. It was a fight he was losing. "I believe you. What are your conditions, Dean?"

"You'll heal Cas, and you'll swear, on your Father, that you will never harm him again or allow him to come to harm."

"Dean," Cas gasped, tears in his eyes as he tried to push himself into a sitting position.

The hunter ignored him as he continued, his own eyes suspiciously moist. "You'll let me speak to Sam, to say goodbye to him, after . . . and you'll let Cas speak to me whenever he needs to."

"That is out of the question. You will be my vessel and you'll have no cause to leave the peaceful little corner of your mind that I lock you in. I promise to make it a pleasant place."

"That doesn't help Cas," Dean whispered, urging the archangel to relent. "He's going to hate me for this decision for a long time, hundreds of years maybe. But, one day, he's going to need to speak to me. All I ask is that you let him." He held up one hand to forestall any argument from the archangel. "Look, you saw what Sam did to Lucifer. With enough provocation, he was able to take control of your brother and throw him into the Cage. I can do that to you, if you refuse to accede to my demands. If you kill Cas, I can pretty much guarantee it."

"Fine, I agree. I swear, on my Father, that I will obey every one of your demands. Now, bid farewell to that disgraceful excuse of an angel and say the word."

Dean nodded and knelt down beside Cas, moving him off of his wings and pulling him into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Cas. I'm so sorry. I couldn't let him kill you."

"Dean," Cas whispered, raising a shaky hand to the hunter's face. "I don't want you to do this. I'd rather I die and you stay free. I can't stand to see him looking out of your eyes."

"I know. I'm hoping that one day you can forgive me, and come to say goodbye. But I've made sure that he will never hurt you again. I love you, Cas, my honeybee. I'll always love you."

"I love you, too, Dean," the angel managed, sobbing as Dean pulled away, a single tear leaking from the hunter's eyes. "Dean, please!"

"Take care of Sam, okay? I won't be there anymore, and you're the only person I would ever trust with my baby brother." Cas nodded, unable to speak past his tears anymore. _I will_ , he mouthed, falling onto the bed again. He closed his eyes and let his body succumb to the dark, unable to stay awake as the last flicker of his grace struggled within him.

Michael pulled the door of the cell off its hinges, indicating that Dean should follow him into the main room of the abandoned police station. The hunter could still clearly remember the light show when Lucifer took Sam, and he knew that they would need the space. A light flickered on overhead and Michael turned to Dean, one eyebrow raised expectantly. "Well?"

"Okay, Michael, you win. Y—"

"NO!"

Dean cut his word short in shock, turning as his brother burst through the double doors leading to the entrance, a bloody angel blade in one hand and fury in his eyes. "Sammy?"

"Don't you dare say 'yes' to him." Donna, Jody, and Claire followed him in, each brandishing their own stained blades, and Dean could see almost a dozen more hunters in the spacious lobby, all of them slowly filtering into the large room and taking spots along the wall.

Michael growled and flared his grace, raising one hand to smite the lot of them, freezing as a familiar grace pushed back, one far too strong for him to casually overpower. Dean stared in shock as Gabriel strode through the doors behind the huntresses, his eyes glowing gold and grace shining around his form. "Stand down, Brother."

"You were always the weakest of us, _Gabriel_ ," Michael hissed. "You're a coward who has run away from every family squabble for millions of years. You can't beat me."

"Maybe not," Gabriel conceded, the smirk on his face matching the one in his voice, "but I brought backup." Dean could feel his mouth fall open as a red-eyed Lucifer strode into the hall, wearing his first and long-dead vessel Nick again, and Sam could only offer a shrug and a half-smile when he met his eyes across the room.

"Brother."

" _Lucifer."_

Sam sidled closer to Dean, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the three archangels and the impending showdown. Jody, Donna, and Claire followed him as he leaned close enough to whisper in his brother's ear. "Where's Cas?"

Gabriel and Lucifer ignored the five hunters as they vanished into the back of the police station, each one holding an angel blade out toward their oldest brother, Eileen standing behind and between them. The other thirteen hunters found positions in a rough circle around Michael, though the archangel completely ignored the humans since they weren't really a threat.

"Didn't Lucifer kill you, Gabriel?"

The blonde shrugged. "Didn't stick. When I heard that you were torturing our little brother and his hunter, I decided that it was time to come back."

On Gabriel's left side, Tasha pulled a scrap of paper out of her shirt pocket and started to read, chanting a short phrase in Enochian over and over. She couldn't read the language, but Gabriel had given her the phonetic translation and the correct timing. As soon as she repeated her phrase for the third time, she reached out with her left hand and placed it on Asa's shoulder.

The tall, ginger hunter began to read from his own scrap of paper, the phrase similar but slightly different. Gabriel hadn't told any of the hunters what the spell would do, and none of them spoke Enochian, but they had gathered that it was a kind of binding spell that would work on archangels. Three repetitions later, Asa reached out and placed his left hand on Bucky's right shoulder, adding another link to their chain.

"What are they reading? I recognize that spell."

Lucifer grinned and moved closer to Michael, blocking him from moving out of the circle that the hunters had created, holding his blade in a threatening position. "You have to be stopped, Michael. Not killed, not thrown back into the Cage and ignored for all eternity, but not allowed to torture and maim our friends and family anymore. This is the spell that Dad wrote to bind my powers so many thousands of epochs ago."

"If I remember correctly, it didn't work," Michael sneered, his own angel blade appearing in his hand as he spun to face Gabriel.

"Well, when the angels tried to cast it back then, they underestimated the number of people it would require," Gabriel replied, watching as Alicia, Walt, Roy, and Elvis joined in the magical chain. The chanting was starting to get oppressive, the overlapping Enochian phrases vibrating in the air and _reaching_ for the three archangels in the center of the circle. The spell required a focus, which Eileen would provide at the end of the chanting, having volunteered since she wasn't capable of clearly speaking any part of the spell.

"How many does it require?" Michael cast his eyes frantically around the circle as Max, Randy, Wally, Jerry, and Rick started their chanting in turn. Other than Eileen, who was standing two steps inside of the invisible circle the hunters had formed with their bodies, only Alex was silent, a piece of paper in her right hand as she patiently waited for Rick to reach out. "Thirteen?"

Gabriel smiled and twirled his angel blade. "Yeah, we're pretty sure it's thirteen."

Michael lunged at Gabriel as Rick clasped his hand on Alex's shoulder and she read her lines. The blonde ducked his brother's attack, all three of the angels trembling under the sudden shock of power suffocating them in the center of the circle. As Alex reached out and placed her hand on Tasha's shoulder, closing the circle, Eileen raised a revolver and fired. Max and Tasha added their own impressive natural magical power into the mix, activating the locator sigil carved into the bullet that entered Michael's side, choosing a focus for the spell as Gabriel and Lucifer dropped to the floor.

Michael screamed as purple and blue magic swirled around his form, drawn by the sigil on the otherwise harmless bullet, the archangel dropping his blade as the magic tightened around him. Ribbons of grace-blue magic covered in Enochian runes tightened around Michael's body, locking away his powers and preventing him from leaving his vessel. As he grace was slowly compressed, Michael fell to the ground and gradually lost consciousness.

Gabriel and Lucifer stood up, the hunters falling into silence as they stared at the archangel on the floor, blue power sparkling around his form as Eileen walked forward and clasped a pair of angel handcuffs around his wrists as insurance in case the spell faded. The hunters slowly relaxed, each of them holding an angel blade pointed in the general direction of the downed archangel, even Tasha and Max having obtained them. Gabriel and Lucifer stowed their weapons and turned to follow the brothers, gesturing for the cluster of hunters to stay put.

* * *

Dean tore his eyes away from the celestial showdown, heading back to the cells and the angel lying all alone on the mattress. Claire gasped in shock behind him, but Jody held her back, knowing that she couldn't help. Dean sat back down beside Cas, pulling the angel into his lap, resting sideways in his arms as he wrapped his fingers around the guardian angel mark. He wondered at the flare of understanding in Sam's eyes, but he couldn't focus on anything other than saving the seraph. Diving deep into the core of Cas's being, he saw a blue light flickering, a dying radiance floating in darkness as drops of fire fell into the void below, one at a time. Dean watched the intermittent dripping for a moment before he realized that he was seeing Cas's grace, or his mind's interpretation of it anyway, as if the bond was filtering his perception to protect him from seeing the seraph's true form and burning his eyes out.

"Cas is dying," Dean whispered, aware of his brother kneeling in front of him as he kept his essence firmly anchored inside the angel's mind. Reaching out, he wrapped whatever passed for his hands around the flickering flame, wincing as each _drip_ burned him, but desperate to keep it from fading any more.

"What? Dean, what can we do?"

"I don't know. Michael burned his grace and there's barely a spark left. Without Michael to heal him, there's no way he'll survive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, after what he did in 13x22, I am finding it very hard to want to heal Michael instead of killing him.


	6. Chuck

Gabriel and Lucifer reached the room on Dean's final word, the two archangels exchanging a charged glance as they entered the cell. Sam moved to the side as Gabriel carefully sat down on the mattress beside Dean, gently touching his fingers to Cas's forehead. "Michael's burned him almost to death. I don't know how he's even holding on right now."

"Can you heal him?" Dean looked up at Gabriel, his eyes half-blind with a faint blue light from Cas's fading grace. His right hand was still gripping Cas's arm tightly, his left held in a fist in an echo of the grip his soul had on what remained of the angel's essence.

"There's nothing to heal, Dean. His vessel, his body, is whole and healthy, it's his grace that is injured. Just as I can't heal his burned wings, I can't regenerate any other part of his true form. Only dear old Dad can do that. I don't think Michael realized how much damage he did." He paused for a long moment before dropping his eyes to the ground. "Or he knew that Cas would die and he lied to you about healing him."

Lucifer tilted his head and reached out to place a hand on Cas's forehead. "He has so little grace left. I don't think he has enough to regenerate what he lost." His hand brushed Dean's as he pulled away and he grabbed Gabriel's shoulder in shock at what he found. "Brother . . ."

"Yes, I know."

"What?" Sam looked back and forth between the two archangels and for a long moment, only the sound of Cas's strangled breathing filled the silence.

Gabriel sighed and reached out to take Sam's hand, projecting as much calm into the hunter as he could. "Castiel is missing a tiny piece of grace. The rest of his grace is burned and dark, but still there inside him. This piece, it's not burned, it's gone. He gave it to Dean at some point in the past few hours. The only reason Castiel would do that was because he was too weak to heal him but he wasn't willing to let your brother suffer."

"Can I give it back? Would it be enough to help him?"

"It's bound to your soul now," Gabriel replied sadly. An idea blossomed in his eyes, and he clapped his hand on the hunter's shoulder. "However, that does give me an idea of how to save him. Just hold your hands tightly around his grace, Dean. I think I know what to do."

Lucifer furrowed his brow as he realized what Gabriel was considering. "He needs grace. More of his or someone else's shouldn't make a difference. If he could get a jumpstart, he should be able to start healing on his own. Even so, it will take a long time."

"As long as he has time, that's good enough," Sam replied, casting worried eyes over the strain on his brother's face. Dean wouldn't be able to keep a tether on Cas much longer.

"He wouldn't let me do this if he was conscious, but at the moment he has no choice and this is the only option we have." Gabriel turned to his brother archangel, flipping his blade in his hand and offering Lucifer the hilt. He materialized a short vial, half the length of his finger, and raised his chin to expose his neck. "Can I trust you, brother?"

Gold eyes met clear blue, and the older brother nodded. Reaching out with the blade, Lucifer made a tiny cut at the base of Gabriel's neck, carefully suctioning a minute amount of grace into the container before healing the wound. The bottom half of the vial swirled with glowing, bright blue archangel grace, Lucifer holding his finger over the top to keep it from returning to its owner. He handed Gabriel his blade back and raised his own chin, smiling at the shock in his brother's eyes. "He might need a bit more, and I was always stronger than you."

Gabriel chuckled, reveling in the sibling camaraderie that he had not experienced in eons, taking a tiny amount of Lucifer's grace and healing the wound, holding the full vial near Cas's mouth. As the super-powered grace flowed into the seraph, he gasped and almost jerked free of Dean's arms, his eyes shooting open and glowing with his own restored power. Dean pulled free from his mind as Cas's flickering light returned to a steady beacon, maybe not as bright as before but no longer in danger of fading out. The two archangels watched proudly as their raven-haired brother slowly returned to consciousness and stared up at Dean, shock in his crystal blue eyes.

"You're not Michael."

"We had a last-minute rescue. Michael isn't a problem anymore, I hope."

"For the moment he is safely contained," Lucifer replied, Cas turning his head to stare at the two blonde archangels.

"How? Why? Gabriel, Lucifer . . . I don't understand."

"Well, after Michael got free and grabbed the two of you, lil' bro here returned to his hulking moose and sprung me from the Cage into a constructed vessel after I promised to be on my best behavior. He heard your human pray for you on angel radio, and we were able to pinpoint your location and save you."

Cas sighed in something between shock and relief, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. "You promised that you would save me, and you did."

"I almost didn't, honeybee," Dean whispered, so focused on the angel that he didn't see the amazed look Sam exchanged with Gabriel, or the little cheer dance the three huntresses shared outside the cell. They could see that Dean had finally accepted his feelings for the dark-haired angel during their ordeal as Michael's hostages. "He broke me, and I'm sorry about that. Seeing him holding you by the neck . . . God, Cas, it was too much for me. I thought that accepting Michael was the only way to save you. I had to do something."

"I know, Dean. I'm not angry at you, I promise. I was so . . . I gave up when you left with him. When I thought I would never see you as _you_ again, it was too much."

Dean sighed, his eyes brimming with tears that he no doubt would refuse to shed in front of so many people, tightening his left arm around Cas's waist and raising his right hand to cradle the angel's head. "Don't do that to me again."

"Stop pissing off archangels and I think I can assure you of that."

Dean laughed, his tears fading as he finally relaxed, finally realized that he and Cas were safe and with their family again. Dean slowly released his tight hold on the seraph, pushing himself to his feet and pulling Cas up to stand beside him. The angel turned to face his friends, clearly unconcerned by his lack of shirt or the strange way his coat sat on his shoulders. The tips of his wings stuck out above the collar, but they were covered in black t-shirt bandages and the humans hadn't seen them at all. Cas looked at Gabriel, shrinking away from the sudden flash of pity in those golden eyes.

"Cas, it's okay to show them. Maybe they know some way to help."

Cas nodded and turned around, slipping his trench coat off his shoulders and gripping it tightly in one hand. He felt Dean's gentle support as Sam gasped, the huntresses moving into the cell with the hope that they could be of some comfort to the angel. "Michael pulled them all out," Cas whispered brokenly, resisting the urge to flex against the tie holding his wings in place. "I still can't hide them."

"We'll find a way to heal them, Cassie," Gabriel comforted, reaching out to place a warm hand between his brother's shoulder blades, smiling as the younger angel relaxed. "I'm sorry he did this to you, again. I don't know if you remember . . ."

Cas nodded when Gabriel trailed off, turning back to face the group. "I remember Michael's idea of behavioral correction. But what else could I do, except try to protect Dean?"

Gabriel chuckled at the hunter's blush. "It's what makes you a good guardian angel, Cas."

"It makes him a great deal more than that," a surprisingly familiar voice countered as the amulet that Dean had hung around Cas's neck began to glow with a brilliant white light.

The three angels turned toward the back of the cell, staring in speechless shock at the deceptively short man with brown hair, blue eyes, and scruffy brown beard who had suddenly appeared in the dilapidated building. A man that Castiel had been certain must be dead. Dean reached up to touch the necklace, shaking his head.

"Chuck?"

His voice seemed to break the angels out of their stupor, Lucifer glaring angrily as Cas tilted his head in confusion and Gabriel took a handful of steps forward. "Dad?"

"Hello, son," Chuck greeted, warmth in his light blue eyes. "Sons," he amended, extending his glance to include the other two angels.

Claire laughed, stowing her angel blade as she stepped forward to take a position just behind Gabriel. "No way. You're God? Like, _The God_?"

Chuck nodded, smiling brightly as Dean groaned and threw his head back. "This is the last thing we need right now. Seriously?" He returned his gaze to Chuck, tilting his head as his shoulders and arms tightened in fury. "Where the hell were you ten hours ago when your less sane son was torturing the fuck out of my angel?!"

Chuck twitched his finger and turned off the light emanating from Cas's necklace, his calm, kind expression never wavering. "Free will is part of the package, for humans and archangels. And, also one incredibly rebellious seraph." He nodded at Cas, but the smile on his face softened any blow the raven-haired angel might have felt. "If you remember, I wrote the book before you lived it. I knew that this was coming, but I had to let it play out."

"You let him suffer like that, you let him almost die, for the sake of free will?"

"For the sake of this," Chuck replied, waving one hand at Dean's comforting arm around Cas's waist and the other at Sam standing just inches behind Gabriel. "For the sake of seeing my fourth son return from his self-imposed exile. For the sake of seeing my second son released back in the world and getting along with his siblings, at least somewhat. For the sake of seeing my first son returned from insanity to a place where he can finally heal. And for seeing my most obedient and devoted son receive both the reward that he has wanted for years and the one that I have wanted to give him."

Sam seemed to catch on a bit quicker than his brothers, Jody and Donna looking up at the taller hunter for some sort of an explanation. "Uh, Gabriel is fourth, Lucifer is second, Michael is first, and Cas is the obedient one, I guess."

"I'm not," Cas whispered, bright eyes meeting Chuck's. He wanted to be as comfortable around the man as he had when he was just the Prophet Chuck, but he couldn't help but be nervous. "I'm not obedient or devoted. I'm rebellious and broken." He waved his hands at his bandaged and featherless wings, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "What can you see in me, Father?"

Chuck stepped forward, squeezing Gabriel's arm as he passed and reaching out to cup Cas's face in one hand. "Let's take this conversation somewhere more private."

Dean shook his head and looked around in shock. Between his last two words, Chuck had teleported the entire group of angels and hunters back to the bunker, the group from the lobby of the police station standing under the stairs in a circle around Michael's unconscious form while the three huntresses had landed on one side of the main table across from the three angels and two Winchesters.

Sam turned to Jody and gestured toward the group of hunters by the door. "Hey, can you get Michael carried down to the dungeon and keep them out of here for now? Tell them everything went well and we'll meet in an hour or so for a debrief."

"Of course, Sam." Jody and Donna headed for the group of hunters, both of them grabbing one of Claire's arms with one hand and forcefully guiding her away, knowing that the boys and the angels needed some time alone.

Clearly, Lucifer was not interested in time alone with his father. He hadn't stopped glaring the entire time, flaring his grace for a second before turning to storm away. Gabriel saw him open his wings to leave, reaching out to grab his older brother's arm in an effort to make him stay. Lucifer turned and sighed, closing his wings as Gabriel pulled him to one side, gold eyes meeting angry blue. "Luci."

The older archangel nodded, glancing at Chuck before returning his gaze to his brother. Their father was watching as the hunters moved Michael out of the main room, temporarily distracted from his other two sons' conversation. "He cast me out, Gabe. He sent me away for loving him so much. What am I supposed to say to him?"

"Luci, you haven't seen him in hundreds of thousands of years. This is our chance to rebuild our family, to have what you and I have always wanted. Don't let your anger keep you from being happy. I want you to be my brother again, and He's kind of a big part of that."

"I can't forgive Him for what He did," the Devil growled, his eyes flashing red.

Gabriel smiled and tilted his head to the side. "You must have forgiven him a little, because you're saying the capital H's again."

The older archangel sighed and dropped his head. Part of him was thrilled to have a brother to talk to again, one who wasn't insane and trying to kill him, but being a _family_ again with their long-absent father was asking a lot. "Gabe."

"Just talk to Him, okay? I can't say I completely forgive Him for leaving, but I think we can both be strong enough to have a conversation. Besides, we're going to need help with Michael if we want to do anything other than throw him back in the Cage."

Lucifer let the red fade from his eyes as he slowly nodded. "It's good to have you back, Gabe."

"It's good to have you not stabbing me, Luci."

Sam and Dean looked up in confusion as the two archangels burst out laughing, returning to the table and claiming two chairs on the opposite side from Chuck, Cas, and the brothers. Sam met Gabe's eyes and raised his eyebrow, but the archangel shook his head and indicated that they could talk about it later.

Dean cleared his throat as the last of the hunters vanished deeper into the bunker, their footsteps swallowed up by the huge building. "Ok, Chuck, spill." He paused as he realized what he had said, green eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at the smaller man and struggled to maintain his composure. "Or do we call you God now?"

"Let's skip the G-word. I prefer Chuck," the author replied brightly.

"Ok, fine. _Chuck_. Cas has been through a lot today, so if you could explain yourself in ten words or less, that would be great."

Gabriel snorted, shaking his head when all eyes turned toward him. Chuck thought for a moment before answering, holding his hands in front of his chest as a brilliant blue-white ball of light appeared above his palms. "I have a gift for Castiel, my most obedient son."

Cas smacked Dean on the shoulder as he realized that the hunter was actually _counting_ Chuck's words, satisfied that he had met the hunter's arbitrary limit. They were interrupted by Gabe's strangled gasp, the two archangels appearing in a flutter of wings behind their brother, each of them placing a hand on one of Cas's shoulders. "What's going on?"

Gabriel squeezed the seraph's shoulder, unable to contain his vibrant grin. "He accepts, Dad."

Lucifer reached for the tie roped around Cas's wings, releasing the knot and letting it fall to the floor. "How long did that take you?"

"After I brought Castiel back as a seraph, I abandoned my human life and went into seclusion. While I was there, I started working on this. It has taken me almost six years to get this far. It isn't enough to create something from scratch, but it can work on someone who is already a seraph. If he accepts it."

"Father, what's going on?"

"It's your reward, Castiel. Do you accept?"

Cas looked at Dean, confusion in his crystal blue eyes, relaxing as the hunter slowly nodded. He had no more idea what was going on than his angel did, but the Chuck he knew was a good man and if he said it was a reward than it was. He couldn't imagine that God would intentionally hurt his "most obedient son".

"Yes, I accept."

Chuck stepped forward, the light in his palms swirling. "Sam, Dean; close your eyes."

The hunters closed their eyes, turned away, and buried their faces in their arms. By now, they were well accustomed to protecting themselves from sudden bursts of angelic power. Chuck held the light out and let it touch Cas's chest, the two archangels squeezing his shoulders in support as the ball of grace entered him, exploding outward in a flash of light too bright for a human to look at. Castiel screamed, more as a means of relief than in response to any actual pain, falling to his hands and knees on the floor as his brothers and father stepped away.

"Cas?!" Dean turned back to the table, running over to kneel beside his angel as two huge, fully feathered blue-black wings slowly unfurled and arched above his head. The hunter caught his breath in shock as a second pair of wings stretched out below the second, followed by a smaller third. "Cas, you said that a seraph can't manifest all six wings."

"A _seraph_ can't," Gabe replied proudly, manifesting all three pairs of his own golden wings, Lucifer following suit with dark red wings tightly folded against his back.

"Oh God," Sam breathed, shaking his head and completely unable to tear his hazel eyes away from the kneeling angel. Dean glanced at him with a "what the hell" look on his face, still not quite understanding what had happened. "Chuck made him into an archangel."

"I can feel it," Cas whispered, flexing his wings as he tested the strange sensations of having all three pairs attached to his human vessel. His eyes were glowing with a sapphire light, shades darker than it had been when he was a seraph. "This power, it's so . . . I think I can feel the stars breathing . . ."

"What?"

Gabriel shook his head. "It's hard to interpret, the connection that archangels have with the universe. We took a while to get used to it, and that was before there were tons of planets and humans and stuff. Luci and I can help him get through this transition."

Dean reached out and cupped Cas's face in one hand, raising his head so their eyes could meet. He felt like he was staring into the soul of the universe, billions of stars swirling in his angel's blue eyes, but he resisted the urge to fall too deep. "Hey, come back to me, honeybee."

"Dean?"

"Cas, look at me, ok? Gabe and Lucifer are going to help you later, but for now can you just focus on your human form and try to remember what it's like to just be Cas?"

"I will try, Dean." Cas rocked back onto his heels, slowly rising to his full height and folding his wings. His eyes were still glowing with that unearthly sapphire light, but he seemed to have gained some small amount of control. "Father, I don't know how to thank you. I don't know why you gave _this_ to me."

"Because when I asked my children to love the humans, some of them tried, some of them refused, and the rest of them gave lip service to the concept. To be honest, I was prouder of Lucifer for refusing than I was of Raphael for pretending when he has always truly hated my favorite creation. And some of them learned to care somewhat, or at least learned not to see humans as worthless mud monkeys, but you, Castiel, were the first angel to ever love humanity. I know that you used to sit and watch them, and sometimes you would secretly help them or heal their children, and I know how long you have loved Dean. You rebelled against Heaven, against three incredibly powerful archangels, and died multiple times, but you never gave up."

"But I made so many mistakes," Castiel argued. "I freed the Leviathans, I broke Sam's mind, I made deals with the King of Hell, I killed Raphael, helped kick the angels out of Heaven, and I am responsible for the death of more than two-thirds of the Heavenly Host. Everything is broken and wrong because of me."

Chuck shook his head. "You're looking at it wrong. You stopped Uriel from destroying Dean. You saved him from being forced to become Michael's vessel against his will. You stopped your brothers from starting an Apocalypse that would have destroyed most of the world, and then you prevented Raphael from enacting his plan to start the whole thing all over again. The Leviathans were an unfortunate side-effect of that situation, but you helped Dean and Sam end that threat, as well."

"And Metatron tricked you with that whole kicking everyone out of Heaven thing," Dean soothed, wrapping his arm around Cas's waist. The newly minted archangel seemed to have gained some control, the glow gone from his eyes and his wings slightly more settled. "And you were a human for months; that's certainly punishment enough."

Cas chuckled, slowly relaxing. "I just don't feel that worthy."

"You stood up to me, baby brother," Lucifer pointed out. "Even though you knew I would kill you. It was kinda brave."

"And you stood with Chuck against Raphael." Sam glanced at the one-time prophet, tilting his head. "Well, that was kind of pointless, but brave anyway."

"Why do you think I kept bringing you back? I have always been proud of you, son."

Gabriel placed his hand on Cas's shoulder, ruffling his golden wings as they disappeared. "You need some peace and quiet to get used to your drastically increased power level. Come with me; I know just the place." Gabriel vanished with a rustle of feathers, Castiel opening his wings and flapping once to follow. They had never seen the actual action of the wings flapping, only heard the sound, and both hunters were glad they finally got to experience it.

Left alone facing his father, Lucifer flexed his shoulders and hid his own wings, a hardness in his eyes to match the stubborn set of his chin. Without saying a word, he stalked past the hunters and vanished deeper into the bunker, headed for an empty bedroom. Chuck sighed as his son left, having no idea how to talk to the child he had banished eons earlier, so he settled on offering a friendly smile to the hunter brothers.

"So, what now?"

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, finally accepting that the threat was over, that he had saved his brother, and that he had survived an assault on an angelic garrison led by the most powerful of the Archangels. "I need to go talk to the hunters and make sure that Michael is locked down. Uh, Chuck, are you going to talk to him? We didn't really have a plan beyond catching him and saving Dean and Cas."

"Yeah, I'll talk to him when he wakes up. Hopefully he's happier to see me than Lucifer was."

Sam nodded and turned to leave, pausing mid-turn as something occurred to him. "Chuck, you've been gone a long time. I mean as God, not as the prophet persona you maintained. Why did you come back now? Why did you turn Cas into an archangel?"

Chuck sighed and walked around the table, running his fingers over the wood grain. "It's hard to explain, to be honest. I wasn't going to return. I planned to write an autobiography and just fade away, but Metatron convinced me that I am still needed here."

"Metatron? You have got to be kidding me." Dean shook his head and turned away, clearly remembering his less-than-pleasant time with the ex-angel scribe.

"He helped open my eyes," Chuck replied. "To see him argue, with _me_ , about how wonderful humanity is, to hear him defend it . . . I'm still kind of processing, I guess? But when I saw that Lucifer and Gabriel, who have done nothing but fight for millions of years, band together to save a human and the angel who fell for him . . ." He trailed off, shrugging. "I didn't have words. And I always have words. I knew that I had to return. For the sake of free will, I had to let the fight play out, but seeing Castiel's strength in the face of his strongest brother . . . seraphs don't stand up to archangels. They aren't designed to, they don't want to. He surprised me, and I am not often surprised."

"Are you going to help with Amara?"

Sam slapped Dean on the shoulder in reprimand, but Chuck clearly didn't mind the question. "Yeah, I've thought about that. When I locked her away before, I had the help of the four newly-created archangels. She's pretty much my equal in power, maybe a bit stronger, so I needed my sons' power to win."

"And now there are four archangels again," Sam mused. "Although one is really new to his powers and one is certifiably insane and mostly homicidal."

Chuck shrugged. "We have some work to do, granted. And it would help if Lucifer would talk to me. I think I'll start with Michael as soon as he wakes up."

"Uh, yeah, good plan. I'll go check on him." Sam turned to walk away again, heading down the long hallway into the bowels of the bunker and the pack of hunters waiting for him there.

Dean's stomach growled at that moment, the hunter shrugging at the sound. "Been a while since I had something other than Cas's hoarded snacks to eat. I'm going to cook something up."

"Oooh, got any bacon?"

Dean looked at Chuck incredulously, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You eat bacon?"

"Of course."


End file.
